It’s two hours left till the shit goes down
Says the old man who watches the clock.
His profanity mars the air with its presence
As he snarls out the window, clutching his rifle.
They won’t be bothering him again, he says,
Crouching by the couch.
This will finish it.
Two will lay dead at the end of the night,
And he’ll be the hero, at least in his mind.
That’s enough, right?
No comments:
Post a Comment