RMC

Tolerance is but easy
except for my own ways.
How long Lord will it please me,
before my end of days?

I love every way
that a person might find joy.
Yet I find it a long day stuck
in reflection I don’t enjoy.

Yet the blackness of my soul,
I must burn at both ends,
to please everyone and a man
in the mirror who’s not my friend.

Vices amidst me I offer a rose,
but black is my soil
until the sun fails
my temperance I’ll boil.

Lost is my hope of love,
a companion in the black.
My eye drips posion
as I slowly remember back.

I reach for a hand
that with me does not agree.
The blindness in my eye
is from in the mirror I see.