The Fourth to Be

Originally written, like, months ago.

Why have you been cruel to me?
Why is she the fourth to be?

Pull me down, bury me in the dust of the earth.
Nail, no crown, funny how six feet measures my worth.
Let me ask you, gravity,
Without a words of my slur,
Why am I in love with her?
Funny how this came to be.

Set me free, forgive me for I’ll do it again.
Quick was she, funny how that thought went down like gin.
I must wonder, trinity,
How a sinner like myself
Could place her on the top shelf?
Funny how I’m blinded by beauty.


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