I'm confused by the caustic whispers What I do, I do for love, they say I'm profane.
Of course I'm atheistic, I'm under the dome of this upset city with my badge and gun, what do they expect, my broken home? I of all the answers, answers, I have none.
I know their caustic whispers well because I am one of the inimical voices spraying my name.
My name is in lights, while I wanted this, I never asked I never asked, but now my brain is awake and I'm profane.
Marcus stood in her kitchen sink to the face hearing her name, seeing the little girl. Knowing full shame, a person of poor success, falling from grace.