Confessions of a Troubled Youth
I stole a Cutlass Supreme when
I was sixteen, drove it to the coast,
torched it on the side of the highway.
I could feel the heat on my back
as I walked away, see the flames
as they rose higher into the night.
Why did I do it? You might ask.
Because no one asked me not to.
(C) 2010 James Eric Watkins
I stole a Cutlass Supreme when
I was sixteen, drove it to the coast,
torched it on the side of the highway.
I could feel the heat on my back
as I walked away, see the flames
as they rose higher into the night.
Why did I do it? You might ask.
Because no one asked me not to.
(C) 2010 James Eric Watkins
posted by Sir James Eric Watkins at 12:11 AM
2 Comments:
Did you roast marshmallows?
No. But that would have stunned the cops more by finding me there with my stick and a bag of marshmallows by my side and a sticky face, rather than finding what they did.
But, of course, this is merely fiction.
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