Clearly A Winter Thought Poem by Radek Ozog

icicles dig into my thickest vain
burst open at midnight on cold and candle lit cement
then the blood gushes out
voices above me 'get down on your knees' echo's in waves
before I could even motion 'ok! '
The seas waves turned solid
I see know my wallet drawing in a pot-hole of my own blood
money equals, root of all evil and this is presented to me in my rear-view
in my rear view 'shot up or they all will here you' voices of the perpetrator
is still vivid in my ear.
dream like sequences that only seen below the Hollywood symbol.