times change, but people don't
forget about situations strained and
forever stained with pain inside the deepest
crevasses of the brain; creamy as jergens
sweet as brown sugar, but dull like
an old rusty sword, garnished is the
soul of those exposed to schemes and
diabolical plots; the tic of the hands
of time combine to intertwine with
metaphorical phrases caught up inside
metaphysical phases, stuck in catastrophic
stages neglected rages and regretted cages
cells without a block, locked for suggesting to
shoot back at crooked cops, trapped in the pen
five to ten unable to change time but it
always comes back at least twice a day