The Gentleman Climbs Innuendo
I’m not of grim to reap your sacred garden,
Nor peek through curtained windows until harden.
Call off those guards, shields soiled with dirt
Flood these ears with waves of joy, laughter and hurt
Ignore the haunting ghost of relations past;
The tainted hearts shall condemn the next — until last.
For I am dissimilar, release that pencil strangled in spite;
Sketch my image on canvass of white…