Dark alley showers spitting sinks at a time
With loud cries that bounce from
Window to wall.
I am dried up inside
Like dragging skin on leather, just leaving
A trace of cells in the bumps and the bruises.
Fate chooses men with a blood soaked sponge
Wiping clean any trace of real truth,
So lie like the wind, you arrogant youth.
When did the right arm become the symbol of fortune?
Those desert-dead dogs who chose to throw left
Make the game less fun for everyone.
So freeze if you must to prove some ill point
That sounds so sick to pin prick minds.
Maybe a beating will bring him around.
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