To whom it may concern
On a puddle infested path...
Who'd bear silver and white,
A trademark at such a sight?
They splatter and muddle
Drops of evil intentions
On pristine fabric... destitute loser!
Don't waste sand or gravel
Nor concrete's brief, prized worth.
Let the dents be lessons
For adjustments and glory of labour.
To whom it may concern
Paving paths of puddles,
Stenched, meek behavior suppressed...
Sshhh... Hide pristine crystals,
Time would do the rest.
Make masks and laugh in tattered cloaks...
Why protect and preserve,
When they can be put to test,
And broil in mud as they deserve?
But don't concern yourself
If I bring my sun or a hair dryer.
Dry out the water from little dents,
Or from this planet's oceans forever.
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