~To someone "special," that too many people have known for far too long.
He knows who he is, and if you have to ask, it's probably you because
you're actually quite insane.~

'Psycho'

It seems, little boy, that the problems you face
Are persistent (despite all my hope) -
So allow me to say
In my own special way
A few words that should help you to cope.

Young child, you're insane. Despite all of your claims
That you're different, we know it's not true.
So now -I- arbitrate,
And they'd like me to state
That the problem, young child, is you.

You see, little boy, when you wish fiery death
To their lovers (who have common sense),
Yet still try to demand
That they hold to your hand,
You are (to put it gently) quite dense.

The Gods, little boy, still agree with their claims,
And you've rustled quite often before.
So please take my advice
(I will try to be nice) -
If you're lonely, just purchase a whore.

Real girls, psycho child, tend to shy from the freaks,
Of which you are the epitome.
Not a woman would grieve
If you were to just leave
And go sleep on the floor of the sea.

If rhymes, simple boy, obfuscated the point,
I will rephrase to make it more clear.
There will be no dry eyes
When you say your goodbyes,
So (kindly) get the hell out of here.


Sincerely,
Everyone

XO

Penned by my hand on the 5th of Lupar, in the year 482 AF.