I'm tired. Not unhappy,
Not mad, not pessimistic,
Just that little bit worn out
By the world of my unique,
Peculiar apperception.
You have your own, bad or good,
Joyous or disconcerting.
Tonight, I threw out three mice
Broken in neck or forelimb,
Dead or struggling to get free.
They have a hole down below
In the pantry down corner
Where they come to feed and die.
God, forgive me all my traps.
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