Triggers arent wonderful things.

The horrible  thing about triggers
Triggers aren't  wonderful things
Their tops are made out of anger
with scary bat like wings

They crawl and wait
and snarl and bait
and get you with their stings.

You see the thing about triggers
You never know where they are
They can be hiding by the bus stop
Or out for a day in a car

They don't say hello
they scream and blow
and shout out your memoir

Many people don't get them
only the ones who know fear
They only get a melody
a smile from a by gone year

Its happy face
Not a scary place
to remind you of certain cheer

My Trigger is always a car park
the sort that lit when its night
And if I see a small shadow
The trigger will give me a fright

Its hiding there
Without a care
cackling in the moon light.

Now I never go out in the night time
I don't give it the time of its life
The trigger peers now through my window
I now am the one causing strife

Ya sucks trigger