Tear Runners Poem by babylon patrol

From wounded animals stay away;
Though well-intended you may get real pain.
So too, keep burned-out lovers at bay;
Their endless complaints are completely in vain.

As junkies endlessly whine how they rot -
About their wasted lives and dark habit -
Then turn around to get another shot
Twisting the knife in the wound, quite rabid,

So worn down lover-girls endlessly go on
With the detailed analysis of their story.
But if you’ve ever thought they’d learn a lesson:
It’s never even half-time: Don’t worry.

A little less than great poetry, this is a memo to cut a time intensive habit. It's a good poem to me because it works. The data collected had been sufficient and the lesson needed to be cut short.