Time

takes out it's loaded gun shoots holes in us for fun daring us to try and run time knows the game and plays it well watches from the side or there about has us play against ourselves time laughs at you in your shame takes delight in giving pain whispers to the passing wind your name time is the wicked stepchild the mad dog running wild the haunt in the midnight howl time takes what you offer, gives back no change feels that it must rearrange places on you all the blame time holds tight to lost memory takes it's que from history spits on you before it leaves time draws on another cigarette exhales the stench of death till up in smoke is all that's left