Mafia
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What do we do When war wages wild In our own homes Ten times over And the time to fight Grows ever near? Do we wait Here in secrecy In the dark, dreary, cold And pathetically distant Land we call our own? Or do we “begin To solve the problem”?
The adrenalin flows,
as I run from everything
that I've ever known.
Its fight or flight
but now,
both aren't an option.
Youth and knives...
He’s never around for long
But always there when needed.
Whistling the same song
He triumphs, forever undefeated.
A heavy soul
Dressed in all black.
Always wearing the same leather jacket,
