Permit me death, first. Before you scatter my ashes.
Permit me my freedom, then. When I am beyond your lashes.
My kindness knows no bounds, I am continent.
I am not too stupid for code. I always knew what you meant.
When the fools make their rounds, I’ve found–
Coming into my abode. Live my life for me, if you’ve the means.
Otherwise, make no sound. Compiled by compilations, and multiple screens.
Ask me no questions, and I will tell you no lies.
You’ll never outwit a wayward one, though everybody tries.
You are not my doctor, my lawyer, my pastor or my therapist.
My thoughts are privelage; you have no business here.
It’s a line in the sand… I do not live by your command– get the gist?
Je regret… How else can we make it clear. . ?