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OTOGHILLE

Otoghille, full of mischief and mystery
You used me to rub off your misery
Not that I mind
Yours is mine
French laced tongue in display
As bright as the Sun’s red ray
Peers spear with puckered noses
Hiding in the bushes of the roses
Envious of your new fame
Calling you a plain Jane
Causing you much pain
To me that is so lame
You are not to blame
If drugs have a claim
On you.You were drugged and abused
Discarded to rot, but I am not amused
Once, you were a brainy coat
Jazzed with no brandy sort
It is never too late to return home
Where you will not be lonesome
And be baptized with love
For in you, I perceive love
Use me again
Let not in vain
This is my wayward, real admiration
With its straight forward destination
Show them that you have been reformed
A new you,that is ready now to conform

Copyright ©William Warigon 2019.All Rights Reserved