Once good until
I hit so hard on the first time to try living
Meet villain,
The bad guy

To save the worst:
He’s A Trickster
And robber of the female’s hearth to
Send her down the roads drain grinning

This Villian,
A ‘wize guy’

A Phony type of spiritual
He Talks sweet
Knows your teary-eyed sympathy for him
As pitiful

Dressed in a Hard hart
Your so Tempted to believe in
No sooner
He took you to his white church
And hurt you on the first time,
winning!!

Oh, this villain
Who acts with a torn mind

His Sweet touches light up
On her soft face
He thrives
To see the life that he’s breathing

Pink swelling blushes
Of course, due to these flushes
She yearns to fix him

This saga’s worn
He’s timing when
She will be soaked in her own harts bleeding

For villain
she had her own mind

Is he made of dirt?
How?
She must have known
That One of the two must get hurt
When has this ever ended in a grateful handshake?
Is far cleaner
to execute a stone-cold pillage

For villain
It’s just a hard life