You're so inconsiquential

You are no work of art

You weren't made with god's hand

Or by the kind of heart

I find you so unreachable- unmanageable

I wonder how you sleep at night

Do you rest your head on dirty pillows

And dream of wingless flight

You are in fact the lecher's dream

The decrepit shrine inside god's house

I bet you lie on pins

Just to ease your conscience out

You are no Lolita, no nymphet

And it's no surprise you lose respect

The way you walk about

I'd like to exorcise you

To get those demons out

But I fear there's nothing left to you

Just a crying pathetic child

God help you if you're weak

I hope you find your light

Inside that abyss you call a heart

I'm sure you'll work it out

But I must admit

I am forced to suggest

I daresay you'll have more luck

In a length of rope

Than a young girl's dress

In the end I'll feel no remorse

And who am I to judge

You're a plague loving psychopath

But I'm no Midas Touch

There is a fine line between good and bad

Still it pains me much

There is some awful symmetry between us

And you are my prevailing part.