Inconsiderate, inconsiderable
A polished, hollow, toilet bowl
Depthless, trite, and farcical
Vacuous and detestable
A perverted purveyor
Guilted friend, gilded lair
You push her down
Laying, lying, and lashing – you flay her
Yet if the same was done to you,
They’d only find one layer
-Galwyn
Could you perhaps?
Halt these charming attacks
For my mind is already belabored
Oh, and could you perhaps?
Tell my soul to relax
For your smirk is a perfect derailer
Tell me, could you perhaps?
Cease this lovely relapse
Romance is the harshest assailer
Darling, could you perhaps?
End this song with a laugh
For your love is my sorrow’s curtailer
-Galwyn
I’m working for her
But not quite towards her
This transient love that I long for
Not stricken with lonliness
But stricken with purpose
For a heart to give my life an encore
I gather my sticks
To build her a nest
And I’ll take to the sky when its proper
Yet in the meantime
I’ll yearn and I’ll rhyme
With romance as something I’ll wait for
-Galwyn
In my biome decaying
Heart biodegrading
I decompose here, with resiliance fading
Retrogradation
Of self worth and value
That harsh degradation
Which scorns you and scowls you
And here disembowels you
On forested floor
Where the flora surrounds you
And clings evermore
-Galwyn
Charming in her words
Uniquely chisled as her face
With marble eyes of fountains
In flowing soak encased
The silver stream like vapor
The rising steam of glance
To find a peerless longing
For a creature built of chance
Unique in every factor,
Every fracture,
Every fault,
Yet all of this together,
Captivates with its gestalt
For there is not a single line
Through which she’d be defined
Composed so very wonderous
As if plucked from dreaming mind
-Galwyn
Raw, romantic, and ravishing
Revoltingly captivating
The writhing of lovers,
So tender empassioning
And while they gawk from the doorframe
We’ll be here in the art
Where we’ll never feel ugly
Knitting fibers of heart
-Galwyn
I’m not scared of death
For then none would mourn
The thoughts I had inside
But if I should live
All my life I would give
To see them realized
But if I grow old
Oh, the sorrow I’d sow
If my thoughts were first to die
I’d mourn, for I’d say
They’d been taken away
And I’d forgotten why
-Galwyn
