It’s ironic how mirth blinds one’s foresight
Creating an illusion of a green mile
That a moment’s joy will be a smile forever
Only to be lead to a false deliverance
When you open up your imperturable heart to trust
You make your whole soul susceptible to betrayal
The devilment of a second of foolhardiness
From impetuosity to chagrin however inadvertent
Placability is a blather when sincerity is rebuked
Mischief suffuses your being inevitably so
Intimacy is impishly extinguished from deep within
Into eternal agony and suffering
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