Oh Stop It!

I”m sick of you whining and complaining about your troubles

Regardless of other people and their common struggles you leap

To a conclusion leaving your mind full of delusions of hopes and schemes

When you’re nothing but a minx, piper of dreams; you lynx

Crafty like the jungle wild, behind that infectious smile

You think I don’t see your ploy? You think your torment of me I enjoy?

Forbid yourself the pleasure, I’m no sunken treasure for you to bury

Beneath your muck and mire and misplaced desire of my end

What Friend?