i point my pistol toward the pale gray matter
and the gun goes bang and his braincells splatter
and his senile mother's screeches reaches toward a fervor
and i hate to have to do it but i'm going to have to hurt her.
i swing the barrel toward the nice old lady
and i say a prayer to send her to a better place, maybe.
now i've got to find a spot to hide
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Comments 2
Hey, is your number still the same?
M.
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