Conditional Lies

Growing up; A Hostage with a beheaded surname. Prodded at gunpoint. Not a legitimate plan; Single again for which nest to perch. A pistol lay charitably in limbo. My right hand is cocked back, with a Midas Touch. There will be no bounty for cooking its meal off of my bones. I will unlawfully take into my custody any name. I will write in awe of my own humor. I will pay the bills of my enemy. No Crest am I, but this illegitimate puss is sagging, and the Person that I must be…A Con Artist pacifying none.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s