The Silent ballet of the Piouretting Skirt
Until I’m inert And gift-wrapped in dirt I have little choice but to deal with the hurt; The cruelty I blurt, And the friends I desert, While I act Extrovertedly And sometimes introvertedly Which leaves me subvertedly Alone So with a pronouncement most over And a passion to convert I turn to the flirt; the silent ballet Of the piouretting skirt.