Your hair is longer than before,
Mine is shorter than the last time,
All our dyes have ran out,
Into our natural brown.

Your a little taller now,
With a head,
not hanging as low,
A tighter spring in your step,
As you wittingly walk toward me.
I hated waiting,
But I've never stoped.

Eager, I can not help becoming,
In the shadow of our showdown.
Modest mercy is all I ask from you.
As we fire our double barrelled Deringers,
Bullets that shoot tangible mementos,
Pierce worthless wounds you have opened before.

-Jamie F. Nugent