I wondered

What made him break the bonds,

Of self-concious rectitude.

For a minute he went Mad.

Flailing wildly up the steps.

Forgetting Everything!

Forgetting the Pistol!


He did not calm

Until the ground was littered,

Littered with bullets.

He yanked my hair


He would do it again,

I fell on my face,

And I wanted to Forget.


Poetry Slam: 
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