I’m you
So, my sense, if self is on the prowl;
Why so tense, it makes little sense.
My great desire is far away, lost in market;
Be myself is not on, but a ghost is in host.
So,a cryptic cry is in the sky, oh my my my;
To go and look may be read as caught.
My shred of dread will perspire, when fed...
Purchase a pet may make sense, no fashion intended.
Na, step back from the fray, lest the sell preys self;
Markets styles will not begile, it lacks one trait.
My resolve that its charm while strong does die.
Is locked in know that nothing is imposable. KDG







