outside room forty three

Through assimilation, simile, and metaphor
We see into project corridors
Outside door 43, the lampshade shakes violently
Intermittently like car blinkers, the light flickers
Her concussions would lead to significant repercussions
Conscious I am, so consciously I see
Crackhead logic of addiction, leading to contradictions
I love you so I beat your ass
I love you so I feed you with the very same substance that kills you
Give you a needle and expect you to show gratitude by falling to your knees
Crackhead logic often misreads life’s simplest signals
Those that aren’t subliminal,
As fresh and obvious as drool on a new day’s pillow
Rest in peace is engraved on the tombstone in concave lettering
An unfittingly calm setting for a life so turbulent
Violence has a scent that is revolting and interesting just the same
Small children, growing up around it, inhale it into their brains
Where is resides and festers
The leading cause of rapists and child molesters
See I understand
The story does not always begin with the guilty
And society is so used to Court TV that it lacks sympathy
A sympathetic ear, a sympathetic heart, a sympathetic mind, forget it
So when her little son, pulled back the trigger, while cocking the gun
I saw self defense when others saw negligence mixed with vengeance
The fact that, as he lay bleeding, the young boy repeatedly punched him
Was justification to me, while others saw it as fruits of cursed semen
the prequel tales of a young demon
The light flickered outside room 43
His mother came home and called the cops
The jail bars close on a fourteen year old and our story stops

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