segunda-feira, 23 de março de 2026

The brave coward

 Steve couldn't wait to celebrate his victory
He broke the jaw of the man who had confronted him in the pub
Sirens had landed and screamed like unfed children
the man on the floor bleeding and cursing

The police burst in, but Steve had left minutes before
He was leaning outside the abandoned fish and chip shop
cradling his knuckles and checking his manhood
But inside the scared boy lingered

The very fear that made him overact
Like a threatening piece of graffiti under the wotn's old entry bridge
That would spark up as if written in gasoline
Surge down his thin forearms

From some neglected room of his heart
That part that needed and taunted others for needing
The joke spins gets digested and doubles back to haunt old Steve
The respect I hold for him was for the pain that he could carry

Still pretending with his jeer
With his tireless lsd trip that protected him
Street lights burning abandoned orphans hang down
Drooping like used condoms

The very fear you invented now reverberating back through the radio speakers
The hell you conjured is in the back seat meddling with your senses
You give the cops the slip but your own demons handcuff you
And I see clearly what these demons are as they feed on your spine


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