Wine Can Of Their Wits The Wise

I'll Get Out Of This City Alive, Even If It Kills Me!

Like A Girl, A Baby Running After Her Mother, Begging To Be Picked Up, And She Tugs On Her Skirts, Holding Her Back As She Tries To Hurry Off—all Tears, Fawning Up At Her, Till She Takes Her In Her Arms… That’s How You Look, Patroclus, Streaming Live Tears.

So Peaceful Shalt Thou End Thy Blissful Days, And Steal Thyself From Life By Slow Decays.

I Guess Some People Never Change... Or, They Quickly Change And Then Quickly Change Back.

Urge Him With Truth To Frame His Fair Replies And Sure He Will For Wisdom Never Lies.