Reminding myself that this edge just isn't quit deep
eighteen inches, ten or eleven feet
i smile-
or perhaps it is a frown
cuz' nine ten or eleven ain't taking me to heaven
whether pool, lake pond, or well
unfortunately- it occurs to me,
that 11 feet aren't enough to hell
that's alright i guess, I'm not here to hurt
you, or you or myself, or her
i need to speak from my conscience
if I'm honest, that list is out of order
it's not from least to greatest,
from least important to importer
or insignificant to great
i like to think that I'm an artist
but theres one thing id never create
a list that tells the truth in honesty,
a lit that has her after you, and before me
because if there's someone I'd hurt
it'd not be you - but myself
i never asked you it byproduct of the bombshell
slayed by the shrapnel - shrapnel by proximity
2 targets on sight; no worries about the civilian proximity
aim to shoot, shoot to kill- do what need's to be done
forget about the thrill, or the purpose or the 'was it worth this'
or the 'what have i dones'
you did what you had to
there us 2 of us, now there's one
and a lonely road you'll travel, with iron wrought fence
so i ask you - can we styx - with just half a pence?
