Pow

The POW of my heart the POW of my soul digs deep a hole I cannot explain, do not push it, don't push or I shall show you Hell I'll give you a war that you wouldn't believe to hear is one but to live horror is another. To snap the heart in two like a stick and try to put it together with glue appreciate death as it comes closer to you; I push and you pull we dance a game of tug of war and go there and here and over there and anywhere, but we run in fright in the night and we look at each other and pay no mind, not knowing anything about life before death. The POWs of society rip away at edges of cigarette packs and drink clear beer from gutters and laugh at death, but when it comes to your door we cry and ask why...