Rain’s falling,
The earth beneath my feet feels cold,
Sort of like the body I’m holding,
Slung over my back,
The light is just retreating, meaning
It’ll be night soon,
And I’ll have another body on my hands before noon,
They say I’m a psychopath,
They prescribe drugs too;
Take the edge off
Therapy, in form of
“If you need to talk”,
Talk isn’t gonna save Mary, mother of two,
From the drunkard on the East End, that poor excuse,
Neither is it gonna stop the murder of that innocent in the park,
Because I know what happens when it starts getting dark
This city’s afraid of me, and of the things I do,
And one day it’ll thank me, or
Put a bullet in my head
Read the entire series here
The Bilge Master
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