Notes: Yet another procrastinating poem to avoid Texas Floods. I wrote it last night on patrol. Enjoy!

Take the sun and feed it to the dogs.
Wind now stale, words heavy and wrong.
This is the end, and the road is too long.

Hearts beat fast, rifles are heavy.
Thick rubber wheels sing the same deadly tune,
Bringing not a safety, but funerals too soon.

Your thoughts for a penny, and a penny for a pound,
This is the end, and you belong in the ground.