True Velocity

I am but a child

Adorned with trinkets,

Sand under nails

From floors stained with blood,

I am but a liar if

Claiming victory

When shock taken home

Loses all I adored.

I am but a fragile

No life reserved,

Here in two minds

Juggling innocense

Reversed,

I am but a coward when

Begging salute,

A fly by bullet,

From the rifle I shoot.

Michael J Waite 5^th April 2009