At the Redbox rental kiosk, ninny held his woman tightly.
Such a dull, judgmental peon, with his panic showing sprightly.
So protective when that trophy is a thing I scoff at nightly.
If a woman wants some worth, she'll be ignoring me forthrightly.
I could love a common person were I birthed of common matter,
But instead my one perspective seems to only anti-flatter.
I would rather scratch a scab until it spits out angry splatter
Than go humor useless human via vigor-chipping chatter.
I want rareness, full awareness. Cunning, careful, vibrant speaking.
Not a drone that goads my cruellest mode to show then start critiquing.
Disappointment spread a theme throughout the very act of seeking.
I expect to be alone. Selective trend is far from peaking.