Published October 7, 2006
None of it makes sense anymore.
When cons start outweighing pros,
and hope becomes a screaming infant
tied to a stick and beaten
repeatedly against the concrete sidewalk,
and every day is like forty years
spent wandering the desert
with an unloaded pistol,
you can't help but wish
that you had just one
bullet to drink.
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140,826 Literary Works • 673,694 Reviews
Um.
Whoa.
Talk about strange.
Weird.
Not necessarily bad.
Just weird.