Shots fired 3 times... To your heart.... Neck and chest... You strike back with arrows that bounce back from their skin flyed in a opposite direction... Towards you.. Who never learn their lesson... And yet expect a change... In the outcome, but everytime it's the same outcome... The more you strike, the more you blaze.... Your own self... You know what you need help... Not even for the wounds or bullets of the words of hate that's stuck in you... Is the fact, that you can't realize... The more you speak the more words of arrows pierced through you... The more people look at you and don't care what you been going through... "No intelligence" Somebody just made that inference about you... Can't say no it's not true... Because the more you speak, your wounds get deeper... And your grave becomes steeper.