Months seven is the amount that have passed,
Fourteen being fortnights without be harmed,
Culprit of which most would say is myself,
But no-one cared to ask why hurt oneself,
Now if you dare listen to me, to hear
A tale Pink Blue & White to which a tear
You will shed now, a Tale of anguish, pain
& suffering will now, to you, be lain.
Now having heard my story you, of hate
A harbinger will you become? or eight
Will be the months that have been passed? Pink Blue
& White my heart beats weak, so now will you
Stand me for in these trying times, where hearts
beat for what they'ren't; for what they are cannot
