I can count them easier after the
breakdowns, and I don't mean
the old clunker that has a steering
column-
They wether this and wet the
weather with fists, but I aimlessly
drop-out of the sky, just for
laughter-
We are the unbroken mold that
made Us a united front to
conquer, not absorb the many
"Can I?" fears-with beers of
course-
What doesn't run through my
veins isn't there anymore, and
like an old car, I trade it in.
