Remember all their poems that you thought you'd thrown away?
Or each eternal flame you wondered why they didn't say?
Perhaps a single phrase that until now, you didn't weigh?
Well look again and see this time, just see this time, okay?

They wanted you to read them all, yes every bloody word:
To understand they couldn't ever let their lies be heard;
To really get to grips with when and how and why they erred
And compromised their feelings until everything was blurred.

Their foggy minds expressed their lives in less than helpful tones:
They dressed up truth in tortured scars to prove themselves alone
And when you couldn't read, or even listen on the phone,
Their rules got bent so badly that their poems were just moans.

Their reams of misty dribbling were a tribute to your soul,
A soul that should be scarred, or maybe dyed as black as coal
From all their unrequited lust and long-abandoned goal -
An aim of puerile plays in which you took the starring role.