To whom it may concern br the drip of bloody finger tips. br halts, impetuously, tousled by the wind br and the slip from my bloody lips br is a cause for me, to learn. br br Turmoil is dangerously flattering. br The red eyes, sporting her absurd disguise br oh! the pleading eyes, overwhelms- my despise br I do believe it can go wrong. br br The truth hides. br It slides stealthly in the shadows on the ground, br fast, expeditious it flows with leaps and bounds. br Yet lies are not shy, how the swoop how they fly br in the air. br To ease yet draw and vellicate my despair br br Hope floats, even, br never snagging ground br though unrestrained it screaches, begs br it will be found. br br to whom it may concern br hope is fragile br I have learned.