It wasn’t right initially,

It felt forced ,

up onto those meat hooks that concuss the passerby’s.

The ones who aren’t lucky enough to duck.

The very same ones who aren’t lucky enough to keep their heads.

The general public, just as the guitar solo kicks in.

The ones who run out during intermission; who leave their car doors open.

The ones with all the wounds and the dead ends and all of the lies, too.

The same ones who end up being the hero in all of the cliffhangers,

the ones with all the scars who come to it naturally,

the ones who swing violently,

the ones who sleep sweetly.