To have heard in repeat,
that this Man of interest to me,
was nothing but a piece of shit,
became so offensive as if I was hit.
For so many to have struck him down,
the thought of such disgusted to frowned,
the wonder of the happenings,
began to go 'round and 'round.
Where anyone does such attacks,
on people that are not a fact,
caused the reins to pull back,
the halt was me in exact.
The laughter of the cackling breached,
any kindness I may have reached,
so deeply sordid it seemed a preach,
before the after of the speak.
To gather Self in compose,
to support and not dispose,
this hate began to overflow,
the Public Tells are so.
In San Francisco Fillmore Shows,
the Knight I spoke of in my prose,
Venue is the Proper pose,
the last time there footage stole.
To the Ones whom still do throw,
out the garbage you're just a low,
the point of no return was spoke,
my silence I have never broke.
Until this Post of opening shakes,
the horrid way that I've been the joke,
turned aside and thrown to stoked,
the truth of sides is not a hope,
it ends up being the confirmation to blows.
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