Round pegs, round holes.

in poetry •  7 years ago 

My gaze is at my comrade, but his is on the remains.
Reminiscing the old days of shashlik with the teammates.
The gains now seeming paltry, they'll sure revert to battery.
My brain wont stop being sassy, my smudged soul seeking Cassie.

I saunter into the day like a worker grabbing his paycheck.
I wonder if it's a game or my brother's killing for payback.
I ponder chances of grace for the others getting the day decked.
I'm yonder acting the brace while another's having a day rest.
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