Knackered, The Twentieth


The piss of the knackered horse

drenched the cracked, concrete floor.

Rising smoke gave way

to blood and decay.

The horse kicks out it’s knees,

the dog dodges with ease.


Nothing to do

just watch them burn.

Some men should stand in line,

to get what they deserve.


But their minds are intact,

no fool waits what’s not nice,

They flee long before judgement, and long after the fact.


No life should be rendered, I dare you to say that you’re knackered, to a knife wielding butcher.




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