Lying rusted and worn  on life’s barnyard floor

Crapped and pissed on by such a pretentious bore

Unshackle these chains of venomous darts

For despite the high gloss there is no heart

These false bonds carry a warrant

To exile falseholds to an un-enchanted forest

There need not be roadkill

but its time you consume your long awaiting swill

I expel you gone

And in turn there rises a whistling swan