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A Handmade Prison


Oh how I’d love to
Wrap my arms around you
Not in a loving way
But in a way that would leave you breathless
Like a sardine out of its can
Would you like that?
Would you like to be salmon served in Japan?
Would that make you a man or is that not your plan?
Although, months ago
Things made no sense
I was slow with nowhere to go
You came to my funeral and sat in front row
Now I’m tense for you smiled
At the expense of my bones
And the pain that ran through them
Now they’re dry, bone dry
Cold as stones
I’m kneeling, all alone and I try
To forgive the sweet salmon you are
I look up to the sky
And I know that I’d love to
Leave you on a patch of cement
Ladies and gents, here is a man with no plan
A fish out of water, dear old Dan
I’d charge a fee of two cents
To see you cry
And a five-dollar bill
Just to see you try.

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