Grace

Grace

They stormed through the door
Armed and dangerous
One guy shouting at all of us,
“All you fuckers hit the floor!”
I quickly obey
I want to see another day

Just stopped in for a quick drink
Never considered, I didn’t think
That there was any risk of danger
As some abusive stranger
Rummages through my pockets
Grabbing my wallet and keys

I turn to look at my personal thief
Foot on my neck fills me with belief
That this is not some hazy dream
The tension is punctured with a scream
Following after the unmistakable blast
A voice shouts again, “Just get the cash!”

It’s over in a matter of minutes
They’re here, then out of this place
I look to my left, shocked to see
A head without a face
Coulda, shoulda, woulda been me
A stream of blood flowing under my feet

Oh, yeah, there
But for some grace go I
Living on each day,
Each day to die
Every second,
Every minute,
Every hour filled
With a toxic dose
Of overwhelming guilt