Bit of an odd sonnet this turned out to be, it's about a nice guy who gets sick of being nice, so he stops.
So now I know nice is liked, but not desired,
Now I know youíre unkind, but are.
I seem to think that youíre a liar,
I seem to know youíre lifeís deluded star.
I wanted to be liked for who I am.
I didnít think I deserved your ire.
But I was an idiot, well God-bloody-damn,
I guess to diffírent heights I will aspire.
As a bastard pulling strings I will go far,
Iím playing with your life, like fire,
I inhale power and perfume like itís tar,
Your life entwined with mine, both sinking in the mire.
Iím an arse Ďcos you didnít like me nice.
Now Iím not, does it seem strange I entice?