My American Cousin

I truly pity thee,

So lovely and so free,

You have not a shadow of doubt,

at what you hold to be.

I’m sure, if you could understand what I see,

and learn to the utmost degree,

how cold I have become,

you would, infact, pity me.

But in the search for truth,

I’ve pulled a John Wilkes Booth,

If my happiness were Abe,

pieces of it everywhere, is this sooth?