When I get mad I think darkly.
Flames coming out of men.
Black, heartless, nothingness, twisters.
I feel like throwing the world into a trash can.
One man crashing everything in sight.
The black rose.
A black casket.
A cow producing black milk.
The sun falling out of the sky and the moon never coming up.
Black graffiti on every man’s heart.
The blind being able to see,
Those with sight becoming blind.
(photo by FDB Graphics via flickr)