Once, my father won the rat race
and then it wasn’t worth it.
Cause life was going the way he planned
until the man hit him on a dead man’s
curve. He broke his legs, but lost his
mind the most (though, denied it).
Suddenly there wasn’t
a plan, just a lot of twists like the country
roads ahead. From his wheelchair, he threw
of revenge to anyone close by.
Life needed to be punished, after all.
I was close by.
And I’ve been weird like this ever since.