Hand Me My Loss, It’s Time I Hit the Street

Sometimes it is better to walk, run, flee
get on out of there before
the shit completely hits the fan.
Some things are worth fighting for
yet sometimes the opposite is true.
You can often sense it before
the entire brick wall collapses
upon your squirming self.
Peace can only be found in one place
and that is out the other side
of the aftermath of the shit explosion
that is descending with the force
of stampeding rhinos towards you.
To fight will just keep you chained
there longer in the heat of the furnace.
Sometimes it is better to walk, run, flee
before her love turns to crucify you.



(c) 2013 by Paul Tristram, used with permission

Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography
published in many publications around the world. He yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids
instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight. This too may pass, yet.

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