– guilt –

Hit me like a crowbar to the

back of my head, then

drag me ‘cross the dirty ground to

your empty car.

Pop the trunk, lift me up,

toss me in, close the lid, then

ride off to an empty lot

in your dirty car.

As I take a ride-along,

singing an unconscious song,

I have to wonder, as I’ve

now fallen under…

‘Are you sorry, darlin’?

Do you feel your

conscience come, ’cause of

what you have done?’

~

~

D.J. Whisenant

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