Author Information
Lost Rollerskate
The shot of a gun
That started the human race
Started life, started days
Warns us of our troubles
Warns us of grim suggestions
Eating, stealing, wishing
Warns us of grim warnings
How, oh how, oh why
Why me? Why me to this caucasian race
Why me in such an ugly face?
Cast like iron to a shot of life
A shot of birth, shot of rivers
A shot of a wounded gun
Awaiting a traffic light
Anon, for the day still holds on tight
Awaiting a shot to end, a breath to end
Awaiting the rave's end
Awaiting a checkered flag
