I look back
Into two eyes that can't be scrutin
Eyes'd by loving mental models
This way that is not going to make
Sense the subject objections noted
Wrangled ways the voter voted
That's the point of modern life
Cast your iron over strife
Agent red the fires burn
Storming houses surely turn
Into ash and similar dust
At the signs of social rust
Where to go to mend your fence
When the wood was gone, nigh hence
Don't let the meaning guide your way
Feel the sickness rather play
Gather nuts and water towers
Fighting huts with oily powers
Then you'll have the acting throne
Picking never fickle bone
Thrown to ground and dueling love
Grandkids get that hotter shove
One may last but not the first
Casual inf'rence won't quench thirst
Roman Ryan 