Spit a Hole to China

A Poem by The Villain

Sometimes smoking leaves one feeling a bit too lonely

Swept away by vicious tides
of hate, breeding in the masses
trying to find some solace
in a mountain dew and a jack
outside in the cold
I run my hand through my hair
while my other hand maintains
a burning cigarette.
With no one around
I spit at the ground
hoping to burn a hole to China
so maybe I will have someone to talk to.
It won't be much
as the language barrier will
defeat any possible
logical flow of conversation
however the sound
of another man's voice
is enough to make me desire it so.
Oh, how I wish I could spit a hole to China
how I wish I could burn my way
into another man's heart
a friendship between us
that breaks all possible restrictions.
When there is no further test results
I will march into the lab
where my soul was born
and take the conscience
that is rightfully mine.
Oh, how I wish I could spit a hole to China
just to have someone to talk to...