Yes it’s true, your face is quite the train wreck
Your musk drives the molded cheese to envy.
Everywhere you go, people always check
To see the trail of rotting behind thee.

When some person asks, “paper or plastic?”
It is not a question meant for your goods.
For your features are often so drastic
That the public cries out your need for hoods.

Yet a midst the rotting grapes of your eyes
And the corn husk hair on your peeling face,
Lies a certain beauty found deep inside.
It turns all to compost, nourishing grace.

Bananas are sweet, even with dull skin.
Like how your true flavor, is found within.

The man formerly known as Will Armstrong was many things in his lifetime. lover, father, musician, soldier, fighter, murderer…

I am all that is left of him, the last remaining shred of sanity in an empty husk of a man.

I am the monster who strikes the children of my host for reminding him of ones he killed before.

I am the terror that awakens at the mere sound of a siren; convulsing the body and having him scream out in terror a faces of those killed flash before his eyes.

I am his sanity.

Though your heart searches on, longing for him,
Hoping he’ll return to you as if on a whim.
The man you loved is now no more

You tell me his eyes had sparks of life and love,
That his smile shone brighter than the stars above.
Well I’m not the man you’re looking for.

I know of whom you speak, he once was a dear friend
But as broken heart drove this man to his end.
Thus the man you loved is now no more

Still something about me make you remember, you chide.
That this rugged, cold face hides his kindness inside
I told you, I’m not the man you’re looking for.

In your quest did you once think that he left for a reason?
That maybe it was neglect that led his heart to treason?
No matter, the man you loved is now no more
And I’ll never again be the man you’re looking for.