Deranged Disposition

From time to time I feel the need to write something semi-poetic. Read the results below.

Knowing right and doing right, is two sides of a coin.
Choices made with inner thoughts, from a heart that’s been scorned.

You knew the path but chose, to take the road that was worn.
You knew the math and rose, to make decisions you would morn.

Self-righteously proclaimed, then outwardly-maintained.
Truth is you’re inwardly-defamed, and secretly-sustained.

Obviously something is there, so sensitive and raw.
I realized it wasn’t me, but the many horrors that you saw.

As a child, or maybe just your mental composition.
Took a while to discover, your deranged disposition.

Arguably, lack of love, filled with fleeting adoration.
So when my love came along, you set a course for deportation.

Painted me as the problem, then put my love on a shelf.
If being frank is the goal, it was a reflection of yourself.

Your inner mind’s eye was wrong, credibility gone.
Can you verify the source, of the visions you were shown?

But I’m not here to judge, but I stand here accused,
Insurmountable frustration, from the lies you exude.

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