And tired boys too
Far too often are found
Dead asleep in a pile
Of self pity
In terror they curl
Where the burger bags swirl
In an alley
Unseen in the city
But before they breath last
Before present is past
Before finally they can sleep
Like a baby
They remember the one
Before all came undone
Who might..
Who what if…
Or who maybe
You see, I’m that bum
That unfortunate sum
Of all of the things
That got scattered
By the chaos that hit
When the fan hit the shit
In a time
Way back when
When it mattered
And I arise from my dreams
And the echo of screams
That echo the few parts
That were sleeping
One eye open in fright
Starring out into the night
All alone
In the watch
I am keeping…
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jmac1949
Lisa Scroggins
jlsathre
toritto
Deborah Young
I am Stretch
Salon.com
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