Senzu Bean Malt Liquor. May, 1945.

Standing naked
in a forest alone.
Where the grass is cold
like the air through my wounds.

Running scared
in a pool, which was made
from my blood.
And the tears, from the fears
of the old and the young.

Put a gun in my mouth
while I choke on my words.
Let my thoughts
drip down the ceiling
from the heat of your chrome.

While there's now trauma
in my eyes, you have a smile
on your face.
Just another worthless soul
born in society's game.