Pitiful Purpose

Weak on purpose
sheep so nervous
meek a servant
blank sheet deserved it
no words, absurd man
no utter or blurb planned,
empty perturbed stand
midst bourbon dance,
nervous glance
pervy hands
no swerve in stance
no curve in lance
hurt enhanced
blurts  
blunt and bland
stunned demands
guns at glands
those who ran
numb chance
see the hum of bands
chums and clans
fold to hammers of
glum advanced
blam blam
the meek have won
the world
it can't, this is my purpose