Who do I fight when they try to kill me?
Do we pick our foes like we tip on toes on hard wood floors that creak?
Trying to sneak by silently.
I Protest the best that's inside of me
violently waking a caged beast I was bred to be
with a steady diet of lies.
A savory sweet Sunday on a Sunday afternoon.
A savory defeat to my ego's enemy is a spoonful of truth Monday morning.
Good, mourning the death of hope.
It took courage for it to walk that tight rope.
When it was tethered between the towers.
Planes crash land.
Told god some jokes, the punchlines were my plans.
God laughs until it rains, I cry...
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