The Cool Time stings my side, now that it’s too late to hide. I’m gripped by the feeling, as I stare into the ceiling. I count my wrist as I check my list. Why and why not it reads, my reason rot and actions leads. Into the pool, the red emotional cool. Where the pain is numb, just a faint whispering hum. Clock strikes four as blade begs for more, feel like a ***** and wish I could roar. This is not me, I’m innocent as before. So who keeps the score when I’m crashing to the floor? I try to scream, but it’s hopeless in this dream. The truth will be told, so I’ll try to be bold. But I will grow old in a world that is cold, and when I pass the test, I will die here like the rest.