an observation of hostility

loud spoken words
filled with anger and frustration
now my orange soda
does not taste as sweet

I cut myself
deep enough to leave a scar
I run my fingers over smooth flesh
the scar is gone

the mist is shifting
it hides their lies
they think they are in the right
but I know better

wisdom shines like a light
pretty light, ugly fight
boot robbers running after me
around a corner into the night

spaces without light
traces faintly sighted
in the long hours before death
and deep beneath the waves

reflections, twisted and frightening
float upon the mists
to spook unwary travelers
and twist their voices into cries

distant voices cry
as money changes hands
and dreams fly