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A Stretched Band

Your understanding, if exists, is stealth,
For comprehending, I can't, even myself.
Beneath the surface, a smile will wilt,
Shackled, pounded, and wretched guilt.

Battled hard at the endless crease,
For you I wish, I could give a piece,
Desiring to scatter across any,
But too colossal, it is too many.

With you, so true,
I want to stand tall,
But please, no tease,
And afterall:

A stretched band is, a flawed guise,
It'll break before, it eventually dies.

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