Sting Poem by Foster Teegarden

I don't think you know this,
but I don't have these feelings often enough.
The fact that still stands is
I'm not going down without a patch of rough.

Am I a psychopath?
I have this question now that I met you, dear.
Don't let me turn to wrath.
I just want a night alone to kiss your ear.

I used to be real nice.
Since I saw that smile of yours, I've been a mess
I know I've paid a price.
Shifting into a land of cruel and darkness.

Won't you take my last plea
before my heart turns to rust, then utter ash?
We could still be happy,
but if you want this then make a real fast dash.

Because I might be dead
when you come along from all this time waiting.
You might choose not instead.
I'll surely be gone and no one will feel sting.