You asked me for some rationale for my victimhood, for my subsidy with tears. While I sit around and roll my eyes over the mug of public beers. I speak of lands so far away where my imaginary pain, ruled the town of me and my extraordinarily clever gain. But my illness is not the focus here nor my obvious unhealthy works. The only thing the press cares about is that I painted you as jerks. So wear the shirt I’ve sown for you and let me have my say. The only thing that they will hear is the story I portray. I cannot said the man full grown because the child screams so loud I am so proud of him as he controls me from the shadow of the shroud.

What is worthy of expectation to avail my prayers to God? Looking for the gainful things before His throne seems odd. To limit expectations and give to those in need never stands in tandem or alignment with your greed. So sacrosanct and needful that no cheek will ever dry to God and His good people deceived so by your cry. The Word will not avail you your tactics, your strategy and mission. Some would simply wonder why as they sit there in suspicion. We are loath to calculate how many use this ploy that considers the minds of men a malleable kid’s toy. The time has come for all good men to rise above considered, reanalysis employ.

You are not my problem, my obstacle or wall before my climb. Ignoring my aspirations or slight, imaginary crime. The dime or time you spent in convincing me to grow was all wasted on my determination to never grease my own elbow. The walls and wheels of effort are such a nasty term you must abhor my situation take pity on this worm. For the game is set against me for my color, my size, gender or my breed. Can’t you see alligator tears convince you of my need? There’s no end to my dilemma no answer to my plight. They’re much too strong the day too long to embrace a will to fight. For I have been defeated before this world began there some sovereign will against me some exasperating plan.

The joy of being boot boy is that humbly I love this work. And wear the shield that you would wield in labeling me a jerk. There is no one else with recourse or responsibility for my health. No one else to take my pulse and effort toward obtaining accomplishment and wealth. You see the will to want to make it may be all a man possesses. And his failures and attempts will count in the truth that he confesses. So shield yourself from misery, the imaginary pain of being too short, fat in woeful challenge to overcome the pain. For no one guarantees you the wealth, the health the peace and there’s no mystery or secret to the loss or great increase. The effort lies within you to become or stay the same. There’s no one else to share this burden for your personal blame or shame. So do it if you want to and if you don’t just sit down for this world is not a circus and we’ve got no need for one more clown.