A wine glass
Tipped over...

The bell rings
Stampedes of students...

Ink stains
On her hands...

The moon rises:
A single teardrop...

6 feet under
Your hand reaches down...

I don't know that girl
Staring back at me...

War paint streaks
Malicious smiles...

They hide
Behind masks...

Huddled I lay
Bound to the South...

Caught in the middle
Of the great tug ‘o war...

Your life
Is a story...

The mind
Is a corrupt thing...