Metamorphosis

Good morning.
Two days before yesterday,
innocence killed a man
at breakfast and was distraught.
Nightmares filled its daylight
and tears it’s pillowcase.

Good afternoon.
Today, innocence
killed two more people.
The red flowing spread evenly
over the rage-textured earth. Tomorrow
will be stained for good.

Good evening.
Two days past tomorrow,
innocence served a genocide
before supper. “This trigger seemed rusty”,
it said, “and the sunset came too early”.
Innocence doesn’t like missing the sunset.

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