| He swallowed speed to get a thrill, then listened to the whip-poor-will. As autumn paves the way for snows, a capsule—one kiss from a rose. I asked him to explain the drive; a want to harm, or to survive. “A hurricane in my mind,” said he; “I seek the thrill of ecstasy!” “I’m keeping my neck warm from sun; I need not swallow drugs for fun.” He merely smirked and gave a turn: “I hope you do not get a burn.” After he bade backhanded care, he opined in October air: “Beneath grey skies I feel the pain, but my rose lets me live again.” I did not see him from that day; I heard that he had passed away. He swallowed speed to get a thrill; he died as thin as a dollar bill. 20 Lines Writer’s Cramp Winner 10-13-19 Requirements: —kiss from a rose —hurricane in my mind —keeping my neck warm —a dollar bill |