# Poem by Tom Priestley

The rival is screaming about freedom
There are no morals here
just scary monsters
The possibilities are limitless
But they don't concern you
You may think I have no grasp
But I can throw a mean punch
Against the bullies that disturb my sleep
What is here for you but fragmented dreams?
As the Guatemalan worry people die from their smokes
Because the cold air fools them into constant exhalation
Don't be a fool
Be a creep instead