Entirely naked with only a towel.
I had a red face and soap in my hand.
Next!
I was just twenty.
We were all hundred twenty followings in line.
Next!
I was just twenty and I lost my innocents in an itinerant brothel of the army.
Next!
I really wanted some love and affection.
A little bit more time of even a smile but
Next!
It wasn’t Waterloo, it wasn’t a battlefield.
It was that moment of regret that you dropped out of high school to soon.
Next!
But I swear
Those shouting of that sergeant would make whole armies go impotent.
Next!
I swear on my private parts that I hear that voice constantly.
That voice that smells like garlic and cheap booze.
That is the voice of the people.
The voice of the blood.
Next!
And since then every woman that surrenders too her desires whispers in my thin arms.
Next!
Every follower in the world shout give each other a hand.
That’s what I shout when I’m drunk.
And if I’m sober then I’ll will say
that it is still more humiliating to be followed than to follow.
Next!
One day I will cut my legs off, become a priest or hang myself.
I will do something
That I would never be the next again