What's There Left For Me?
A Donquixote Doflamingo poem.
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How to define family, by blood or something more?
My father was only good at the traitors that he would seem to bore.
Roci thinks he's clever by helping a snot-nosed brat.
But what of me? He never thinks of simple things like that.
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We were abandoned at an early age, right from the very start.
It was him and me against the world, so where be his fragile heart?
It makes me want to laugh at how he chose Law over me.
I guess blood isn't what truly makes the bond of family.
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He's always been so clumsy; I guess it can't be helped.
So my solution is a simple one to aid these growing welts.
Maybe I wouldn't have used a bullet is he was somewhat smart;
That of course if things had changed, and I truly had a heart.
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That's the end of three-part poem. Next up will be Eustass Kid. Stay tuned kiddos.
-Soul Spirit-