(Poem: 16.8.20)
I don’t know what will get me,
When the repo comes to call.
Maybe a bullet,
Stray shrapnel,
Or double-edged sword.
Unlikely, all things considered,
But not impossible.
I don’t know who will take me,
Whether He or Her or Them.
A snapped ladder,
Car crash,
A bigot with a flick-knife?
Maybe. Though I try to be safe,
Follow the rules, sort of.
I don’t know what they think of me,
The nameless ‘They’ of legend.
Tragic hero,
Abomination
Gatsby-esque mystery.
Honestly, I don’t actually care,
So long as I keep myself.
AHF Writes 