you'd glare at the wall with stony eyes
another hit,
and you head spins.
Pack the round tight, trying to find a light
that will push those out of your mind,
you go for something
greater.
A parade of multicolored submarines,
some old friends of Mario,
even having a personal doctor
just to breathe
Growing up,
you were never tortured
except for what you did to yourself
No comments:
Post a Comment