Probation, Prohibition
Blackballed cancerous sore
You rub salt in the
contusion of wounds.
I had everything to lose,
Of what did you gain?
Cutting of your cancer,
clearing notoriety.
Blackened this vessel
into colds depth.
Memories made in such ways.
I know you not.
.
My soul is left hot
and my ambition in flames!
Poetry or not,
I'm the warrior of my day.
I'm given cause to help,
and not glory of my name.
Best of wishes in this life,
rejoice with little pain.
