"It's just not fair!" the Rally, "It hurts. It hurts a lot.
Was it something said or done
or something that was not?
A random, baitless, trawling hook
a moment's pause, a second look?"
Regardless, darkhearted, red handed you were caught
From fretting at a spot too long, a dip became a dent
deeper, deeper, darker, with every moment spent
And now the keening, shrill and clear
a warning from within
But heed it not, damn should and ought
and punch right through the skin
"At last!" the Rage, "At last to know! The how, the why, the who."
And peering in the well worn hole
see looking back
is you.
"Hidey" |
Titles |