"A Real Man."
"Mangled fingers push the stones aside.
The scars run deep.
He suits the human face far better than a mask.
The price of happiness is wisdom.
Stones that interfere with speech
will interfere with sleep no longer.
Soon he wipes away the stain.
The motor seems outrageous.
Back and forth he walks.
I watch the fathers growing, throwing caution to the winds.
My body hovers in an air, the man
can hold forever in his sights.
I do not trust his way of dealing.
He and I are brothers for this moment only.
Watch his fingers closing.
He is a real man when he murders, is he not?"
That's what's called irony, a dangerous weapon.