What can you do, when, crippled as you are at the knee,
Hobbling along the floor of your dreams,
Walls closing in, sinking sand sucking you within,
What can you do, but thrash and tremble,
Pray and beg and hope for redemption.
It won’t come you know it, at least not in a painless shot of morphine,
or a lucky number worth a million dollars.
It won’t come you know it. Not like a knight in shining armour,
Or a knife to the heart in surrender.
What can you do when the bottom falls out?
Stick, twist or shout?
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