Count down

The countdown is getting too difficult.
Should have known that easy is not a default.
Another day filled with anxiety passes,
Something else happens & another phone call to ease the crisis.

When does home get so hard to return to?
Or when nightfall really spooks me too.
A sidearm may be handy now.
But the villian cannot be found.

The mental hurdle, I must overcome.
Or else someone will get harmed.
Never piss off the wrong person,
Especially the one who gave up everything for your reason.

"You will reap what you sow"
The day of reckoning is in tow.
Time for you to pay up for evil deeds,
The devil has receipts.

I would like my money back,
But not blood money,
With a knife stabbed in my back,
Keep the change, especially the pennies.

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To my dear friends who are holding me up, know that my chin is still held up. My phone has been programmed for assistance. My nights are days, and my days are days. I wish I could take a cop home with me, but he is quite unnecessary (unless he has other skills). I am letting Newton's first law of motion dictate the remainder of the week. My other responsibilities cannot be disturbed, for their already fragile innocence have to be preserved. So chant, pray, voodoo, or whatever... I'll make it through.