pretty things

The love of pretty things,

And yes we’ve done shitty things,

Only because petty blings,

All Around these rings,

From the marriages of my flings,

It can be a face,

Or a place,

Perhaps a stage?

More like a trance, a real state,

But rarely a real mate,

A few hand signs,

and appears the clean slate,

It’s always early, right before too late.