now i've done it
feeling dirty
because of my
lighting fast taps
on the keyboard
too quick to catch
too strong to pull
back, although i'm
right, i didn't
need to be a
rude, loud bastard
and all the nice
words, all the nice
cool, hard logic
won't calm her down
my fingers felt her fiery wrath
as i raised my seared shield
a protector at the gate, so sure
facing inwards, towards the troubled
[context]
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the sun shines brightly cutting through the haze into tight corners of the post-atomic daze the concrete alley floor, with its broken flow...
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for fourteen years i wished my father dead at the age of eighteen i buried him it would take another six years to be rid of his physica...
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