T’was once a heart made of gold,
Kind & gentle; as vast as the world,
But then decadence ensued,
Of its moral pursuit,
& thus ‘came a poignant ol’ soul.
It does not hope one to understand,
Or even lend it a relieving hand,
For its true visage,
Is not a façade,
What it needs is simply a friend.
If one of two evils you were forced to take,
Which of the choices would you then make,
Would you endure the lesser one,
Or enjoy which you haven’t done,
Or perish rather than becoming a fake.