the truth

Can't really know it.

Many people think they know,

But they really don't.

Different stories.

It's the Roshômon effect.

Everyone's lying.

I told you the truth.

You refused to believe me.

You never will. Cunt.

Seven syllables.

Five more (I am not lying).

We end with seven.

When talking to you,

All I can think about is

Bumping your ugly.

You think you want it,

But you just can't handle it:

Sexy leprechaun.