“Shots Fired” by Scott Sparks

Well, I guess I’m speaking death today
But what weight do words have
When a blood stain has replaced your face?
Instead of putting words in your mouth
How ‘bout I kick all your teeth out?
A sewer drain of pain grated in disdain
Power trip; what was it?
Where is your parade?
Did it rain, did it pour?
Unexpectedly in store
Fresh out of remorse, considering the source
Not needing to clean worn down boot heels
Grinding while I unwind every single facial feature
The sun doesn’t set on the wrath that I’ve kept
It’s always dark, it’s tearing me apart


—Scott Sparks

About richardfyates

Compulsive creator of the bizarre and absurd. (Artist, writer, poet, provocateur...)
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