This Is My Story

Writing my story on a new slate.
This time without the guilt I feel;
of murders I commited in June.
My heart was painted black with hate.

With my soapy hand I’d masturbate.
Then up and down I’d drag my wheel.
Filled with shame and guilt; repeating soon.
Those demons I could not debate.

Then in due course I had found me Kate.
As time passed by she helped me heal,
Teaching to shine like a full moon.
My sword in hand I conquered fate.

Writing my story on a new slate.
This time without the guilt I feel;
of murders I committed in June.
My heart was painted black with hate.

Younglan

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