Boss Poem by John Ode

'It's an unnatural thing', he muttered between sips.
'No sympathetic ears lent or sought,
Shadows of men wait, waste, and rot.'
His hand shook now as words escaped his lips.

'We are the keepers of souls', he quipped with a confused grin.
'Erosion on a human scale,
To be born, to have dreams, to fail.'
With heavy eyes he filled his glass of gin.

'I see no difference between man and beast', his voice cracked.
'A lost cause is easy to ignore,
Screams for mercy locked behind a cold steel door.'
And with one determined trigger pull he found peace thirty years had lacked.