Methodically Arranged

CATEGORY

life

I once settled a beef and got blood on my hands I should have stayed at the scene but instead I ran those who knew this are now gone I didn't take 'em out they left on their own I was cleaning out the desk because it was a mess only to find something I forgot something I had to repress because it was making me feel depressed It was too much evidence I couldn't deny the guilty scent It knocked down every thing I built with malicious intent starting from the bottom while living in a tent like a native American in a tipi I wasn't sure if it was worth it its been buried so long I don't want to unearth it don't want to disturb it even if I got a bone to pick it ain't nothing a dog won't lick I got a lot of stuff in storage I need to inventory boxes of written stories back when days were glory now I've come of age I know the past is in the grave but I can't help but think of those things I still cut beef with a knife that won't change when I smell trouble I still flee the scene end of story the desk is clean no one died just missing a eye that's how to take out a spy in a neat and orderly fashion