If you claim to have known me at my best
Then daresay you have met me at my worst
Where my candid speech, each subtle word stressed,
Had not been instinct, but gravely rehearsed.
My snakelike nature and my moth-like dress
Devise runic face and this two-pronged tongue.
Both these attributes can surely attest
My now blackened heart and bare, beaten lungs.
Asphyxiate the soul if need it rest.
Tell God in Heaven to anon portend
Any sign of passing, in my distress,
The lowly discourse which I condescend.
How highly a prayer to swiftly impend
If crossing the line 'tween lover and friend.
- Alexander McCurdy