taking a chance that it's not garbage,
The caller told me,
she thought she would quit.
Dirty money took the joy out of it.
"I put all my hopes in that someone would win."
"I don't want to get hurt again"
Aside from reminding her
most life is pain,
assuring she won't take my calls again,
while my fingers kept up their
usual pace...
my mind was in a questioning space.
If I looked at politics and
decided I quit,
what would I do, instead of it?
When was my time?
Where is my place?
Should I just find a handicapped space?
my bridges are burned if they ever existed
(I *told* you that bill was tight-fisted)
My ceiling's not glass,
it's probably titanium,
leaving a mark upon my cranium.
my past was too tame,
my future's probably not pleasant,
my only choice,
is to fight in the present!!
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