A Chase of Sorts - This Town Needs Guns

Sung shallowed shadow of some upset sun set in silhouette

Placing eyes prized, tracing outlines lets you evade intent

Are you the you you’ll sing out loud

Or the you you’ll leave out?

Pencil in the pain preceding black

You’ve penned yourself in half

Yanking back the tact that you have lacked

Your mask is part the task

Ail your disguise

When platen pressed leaves no impression

Then does the subject lack weight?

Is this a deep enough depression

To re-prefix the late

Failure to thrive

Are you the you you’ll sing out loud

Or the you you’ll leave out?

Flaunting flaws for applause

In effect it’s your cause

Par the course

Of course

Insight inside an introverted hurt