If you ask me again, I’ll tell you once more
I had nothing to do with killing that bore
It’s true that he hurt me, again and again
But vengeance is nothing I’d seek in the end

My anger is channeled through passionate art
I write poems of heartbreak, souls torn apart
Never have hands touched in anger his throat
Or schemed to throw him off the side of a boat

He stole what was mine from my very own hands
With brazen intention he plundered the lands
Of trust and friendship, those once sacred things
That have become a mockery, chopped of their wings