You feel pain, but aren’t aware You explain, and try to share But you are shamed by those who stare Your face is plain, emotions bare You are insane, people are scared Who is to blame? You are apparently Intelligently elegantly eloquent You’re Heaven-sent And the Seven must’ve spent a mint On the commencement of Your Spirit Do you hear it? Getting clearer? Just get nearer to the mirror And you’ll feel you’re getting near pure And quite surer that you’re purer In a furor you will hear her Saying your name Erasing the pain Evading degredation of the soul Give Him your whole Your sins annulled Your Heart is GOLD