“Hello dear. I wrote you a poem.”
“Gerald, that’s so sweet of you. Let me read it.”
Who cast the stone, who first the deadly blade
Did forge and sank it deep into my soul?
Who made these chains I wear, bound hand and foot?
Who caused this torture terrible, the heat
Of countless suns burning my charred eyes blind?
You, you have left my sundered body torn
to pieces—
“Jesus, Gerald. I just asked you to clean the garage.”
Adam Writes 