Five to the chest

Today is sickness
A mental derangement 
Not of flowers,
no not that kind,
Rather spikes and
Stones and fires
And grim
A body turning itself out
Or turning one's self IN,
For punishment and justice

Yesterday was hell
The flight that crashed
And the meal of diarrohea
That ended up in the
Toilet  
That flushes with pride
And purpose
A soul that literally dies
With each pull
Pull and flush

Tomorrow is bullets
Five to the chest
A gravity of thunder
In a death made for Dillinger
With the blood of danger
And the smell of anger,
If only the doctor knew
How to save,
Save a heart
From a crime