A change of few letters draws a giant dilemma.

How a small twist of a meaning has confused how you treat me?

Is it me short in reasoning to comprehend your core mission?

I believed you would help me, though you acted as my true enemy.

I put all of my trust in you, but that wasn't enough for you.

Being lost in your rule-sets—straight path to the missteps I made.

Am I being mistaken? Paranoid? Maybe just seeing things?

But have you used my misfortunes as a gun to destroy me?

I refuse to believe it, but your lawyers look serious enough.

Will you act with a good will? Perhaps re-align with your true self?

Though I shouldn't be naive so if the bill from your legal team

could make a good stand-up show of my annual income.

But your contradictory nature floods me with emotional chaos—

your own caring people now overwhelmed me with empathy.

Nevertheless, from the beginning you behaved quite differently—

you reminded me of a mogul from a cynical corporate business.

While all the way through, you had a capacity to be good

by simply empowering folks from your own staff and beyond.

I wish I had met them while at deepest points of my meltdowns.

But instead, I got treatment of your therapeutic denials.

Perhaps an apologeth for those therapies the rough-way?

Have you, by any chance, considered to treat me with an electric shock?

Overdose of the current — one less problem to deal with.

Unless, you preferred me to find my own bridge to jump from?

No public attention—just a statistical record.

No clue why he did it, in fact, it's his own problem—

from very beginning he was doing it all wrong.

Meanwhile, I'm assessing how good are your lawyers.

Couldn't afford one, so I had to start my own law firm.

A change of few letters, a sharp twist of the meaning.

Can punks from my legal team twist my case like a vinyl disc?

I'II rhyme my best prayers to get my ass saved by those skunks.

They will remix all my melodies—they are my judicial DJs.