Pass Me The Calm™

Calm is nice. I could use some Calm™. Put it on like a lotion to the dry worry on my skin. But my skin is flaking. The worry aching. There's a cry beneath there somewhere under the beaten desert landscape, a cry buried by trespassers who unknowingly sow into my already shattered ground bombs that boom hurt BOOM hurt!

It's a casual time for them. The routine of littering behind them waste which becomes my drying dread.

"It's life" one says.

And I've got to settle with it.

Pass me the Calm™.