Our shelter was the blue sky
till we grew a tree
It’s bough became our place away
a home for you and me
So good, we grew an orchard
we dug and planted seeds
In turmoil, tears watered roots
as we cut and grew more trees
Till our fields could not be numbered
in grief we glory in golden leaves
whilst greed sprouted envy
like **** we were deceived
Each planting left us wanting
a forest, thick, large and high
forgetting the place we first belonged
beneath black branches that hid the sky

I've inherited a loaded revolver
from my dear ole father

Each .375 has its own name

             apathy       covetousness
   cowardice                misanthrope              
         misogyny      narcissist

Pa shot himself
Ma never taught me how to unload a gun