Little Things In Hell
A poem by Jason Morton
The screeching, grinding of metal, fills the ears
A sharpening tool helps make preparation for what's to come
Going forward, facing all of you mortal's fears
Excited by the moment but emotionally still numb
--
The slice is important, as it's a last resort
Just a tool on the list, something that's come in handy
There's many others and there specific on that list that's short
All of them needed where we're going, including the bag of candy
--
From butterscotches in a pocket to the watch on the wrist
Each of these tools a necessity of an evil mind
But needed they are, for the one willing to go take this risk
The gods were right not to make many of his kind
--
He held his arms out straight, holding onto that special Glock
Time was ticking fast
Tucking not one but two, he looked up at the clock
Those two tools weren't his last
--
The shotty was ready, and a bag filled with shells
He pourred a glass of something brown and soothing for the soul
Where he was going was one of those unimagined hells
For he was the unknown man of ole
--
Little things matter
About the Creator
The Man Behind The Mask
From fiction to reality there’s tons to share about this crazy life. From being a single father, an officer, and having had many insane adventures while I learned about the world, my imagination runs wild with ideas.
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