It seems that no matter where I turn;
The world feels itself so inclined to speak unkind words in my direction.
I try to just mind my own business and just live my life;
Difficult enough as it is.
At work, or at home, I find no empathy;
Only coldness and harshness;
Even complete strangers in passing.
Seem to want to take their turn when it concerns me.
I fill the magazine to the top with rounds.
I put the other two in my coat pocket.
My angst will contain a body count…
Darkness Converges 