I sense the impending danger, it's a distinct vibration.
And hence I not only hear, but listen with full concentration.
They say:
Time is money, and a picture's worth a thousands words;
Then why this time, I only picture myself being barely heard.
Muffled low, I speak in whispers as a defensive tool.
When cruelty strikes, precious time will be an expensive jewel.
A fool would plan out a strategy when instincts are key...
Opening up the flood gates, saturating the mind to a degree.
A lesson learned when slow to react, and it's a known fact;
My ear to the ground, letting seconds subtract is more than math.
It's life or death, and I'm just counting my blessings like the rest.
Any move I make has consequences, that I don't want adressed.
In a place of exchange, I have the feeling that I am possessed.
Not by a being, but of a new holder, and it's causing me stress.
All I see is tiled floor, as the bank robber has his boot on my neck.
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