A poem, if you may – about these wretched and dark days. There is times I feel as if I am trapped in a box, in a cedar wood chest to which I do not have the locks.

As I make my way through the village once again, I see her twice more in great suspense. “Look out”, I cry just a few times more. I look superior to you, but who’s keeping score?

Heartless as a shark, a rattlesnake in the rain. Slither through this cabbage patch, hold your grudge in vein. Obscurity at it’s finest, a red light on alert – it told me to stop, the moment our worlds colliding occurred.

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