Compiled August-September 2017 by Shelby Jones

Convenience, you familiar spectre
So many times I’ve fought you;
I see you’ve claimed another, but you won’t have me
Your cold grasp has already stolen too much

Is that what you showed her?
The grass was the brightest green
Rocks the best for climbing
A shelter from the storm

Oh but that path is lined with danger
I hope she sees the forest for the trees
As a victim of your insidious whims
I know all too well

It will seem perfect at first;
But cracks soon appear
Violence, a storm, draws near,
Devastation and despair

I will be the first to admit
I met her out of convenience
She was the girl I worked with
She was the one I lost

You always strike when we are at our lowest
You always find the weakness and exploit it
We find our strength when we resist you

But fighting isn’t convenient
You aren’t going to change
And that’s why I must
One day, she’ll see that, I trust.