God Ain't Got No Use For A 180 LB. Bag Of Sugar

Days wake up
Where lives are loaded
Into chambers that threaten
Often wonder presents mine over
Body's breathless
Spirit has grown from
Scars crept up from stairs to ground
No strip club, no handcuffs...
We've allowed this touch
Expect judgement and reflect
From across the fence...
These mirrors
Broke show, show times
In us still...