Just because I grew up with you
I have to condone your way of doing things,
your slackery get down party hard irrelevance,
because your slatherin relativity
in the hot wind of rigid sharia shakedown.
Just because I hunker down
at the onslaught of your slitherin sitcom triviality
I have to concede to your casting spells,
because your broadcast of splinterin smithereens
on the heartless blade of swaggerin sword.
Just because we part ways,
you to broad and me to narrow,
I don’t love you,
‘though your stumble on slippery slope
our simple serfish slavery.
But when you strive to crucify
the likes of me
then don’t be surprised at what’s to come thereafter.