They Showed Us The Cross And A Bucket O’ Nails

We played Tag! and when you’re it, you’re it.

Ain’t no good to throw a fit.

You bin touched. You know it.

Stand there, crying while the untouched

Trying to temp you to touch them

But, touch them, you can’t.

Run like the dickens, you wince and pant

And flail against dark matter

Smothering your rant.

Can’t they fucking grant

A wee bitta touching

Not very muching

Just enough to say YOU’RE IT!