You look across the table with those guilty eyes. So many mornings now, I shouldn't be surprised. When you lash out at me then you scream out in the night.
Theres a Vietnam Vet with a cardboard sign. Sitting there by the left turn line. The flag on his wheelchair flapping in the breeze. One leg missing and both hands free.
Don't know what's gotten into you. Must be something in your genes. About this time I was crazy, too. And most times in between. . But I survived to live another day.