White on Red

I pity a docile and feeble repartee. Opaque words cut down by characteristic pride Though I know the fault lies with me Clinging to memories to coddle the injury. But the red chrysanthemums had lied I pity a docile and feeble repartee You paint my character in pastel with absolute certainty So my acquiescent utterance is yours to guide. Though I know the fault lies with me. Plucking my petals till my soul is a fine filigree Bright twisted metal laid on display with nowhere to hide I pity a docile and feeble repartee Had I only the strength to defy instead of agree To break my glass container out of the boundaries I abide Though I know the fault lies with me. You are misguided in that you think I’m not free For the dominance you have over me can only coincide with a power I try to hide. I pity a docile and feeble repartee Though I know the fault lies with me.