I'm confused by the caustic whispers
What I do, I do for love, they say
I'm profane.
Of course I'm atheistic,
I'm under the dome
of this upset city
with my badge and gun,
what do they expect,
my broken home?
I of all the answers,
answers, I have none.
I know their caustic whispers well
because I am one of
the inimical voices
spraying my name.
My name is in lights,
while I wanted this, I never asked
I never asked, but
now my brain is awake and I'm profane.
Marcus stood in her kitchen
sink to the face
hearing her name,
seeing the little girl.
Knowing full shame,
a person of poor success,
falling from grace.