Promises

Sometimes if you care so little,

You whittle your dates to so little.

Sometimes if you care to much,

You’ll prefer to date the dutch,

Instead of dating them all.

For the crying old woman,

Who lived in a shoe,

Only taught one how to paint a world,

Yet if she were one of them,

You would tell her to shoe.

Because one lives alone,

With no want or care in the world,

Drinking iron and spilling blood on your face.

Others viewing one as a disgrace.

And yet beyond Purgatory road,

There are promises to behold,

To end the meat space life.

If one can chill out, and not give a shout,

One can find themselves a wife.