Bitter by ; being mentally bruised and battered most of my life,
shaken with fright without a single soul to help me
through the troubles unseen horrors of the night,
from an evil source that I fear to strike.
But as the evil forces, who limited my choices
that when I found my stallion horses.
Swiftly it came to my head I can run and I cannot hide,
feeling the Beast closing in on every time I decide to hide.
Tired of running and tired of alluding this
relentless creep as my red bolt eyes weep
feeling rest-less, likes a lonely defeated warrior from his home in retreat
that is when I knew it time to rest, to release my Beast.
But in a fight, I may not win however as I cast out my dirty words sin
I made sure it felt my impact, to the bloody end.
by Keith Kadell
when i write you
and you write me
it always makes me happy
happy to hear your doing alright
and happy to hear,
you get a good sleep at night.
im so sorry to hear that your birthday was so bad
hearing what they did to you
really made me mad!
hearing u got hurt,
really made me sad.
i just wrote this to you
to let u know i miss u
and i hope u miss me to!
With birth is a new beginning,
A destination to a new journey ahead
From a child grown into maturity
With youth to age
From innocent to awareness
And ignorance to just knowing,
Perhaps to wisdom
From the weakness to the strength
Health to sickness
We pray to good health again
A path each of us follow
With dreams of success in our lives
To being happy with bliss and love our selfs
And one another
We could have a life filled with loves joy
To treasure always forever
A new life miracle is born into that
First new life of natures blessings
Never take anything for granted
For this new life is a gift from the heavens
To always cherish forever and each is unique
By Brian otoole
I would love to see "twinkle" on my eyes,
but even the mirror seems in disguise.
I see myself better when my eyes are closed,
that way i am friend with my heart in trouble.
Fake me not, mirror in front
I let you you read me,
but could you really see?
Mind is in chaos,
wrinkles on forehead shows.
You see that I know,
but can you put words to it too?
I wish you could talk back,
so you could put back on track
my heart, my mind...
and thoughts running wild.
Walking in the meadow of life on that summer day
Where she always loved to be at Una walked along the steady stream
As she picked up the white Lilly flower and put upon her hair of gold (princess of love)
And the daughter of a dander king
Una suddenly turned her head to the old orchard tree and begun to sing roman lullabies of joy
With tears of affection shed for the god who lives above the skies
At that moment she gazed back to the stream
And there the lion stood so tall just like a king eyes wide looked to una
As she went toward the mighty lion he went to her and utter'd thee words
I am a creature of pride with nothing to hide I am pure of heart true of courage with a mask of savage a mane gold as our hearts-
She became very happy and intrigued
As she laid her gentle hands on upon the lion she spoke these words
-I love thee lion and by sun and moon I love thee freely as men strive for right;
I love thee purely in my old griefs and childhood's faith
There a tiny lamb appears right next to her and the lion
So small and graceful like a gift from god above
The tiny lamb followed them further into the enchanted meadow sky as crystal blue and the wind is calm they drifted off strung into the world
To bring new love joy and courage to the world and spread good faith
Neutrality in your colour seduces me and overwhelms my pride.
Originality in your words attracts me and drives my senses to you.
Prenuptial agreement, I must sign, without delay.
Quest no more! You are my type of girl.
You are with no doubt the woman of my heart
On that cloudy weekend in June
I hear a soft and graceful tune
from the grey bird on the tree
Singing sweet lullabies felt
blessed in the moment
My body tingles of joy at sight
Gazing out through
my open door,
Letting thoughts fly free
Releasing love out into the horizon
Heart filled with emotion came
Grey bird stood playing its tune
for awhile and on the wings of
Then as the rain fell from the
sky the grey bird flew away
I blew a kiss to the clouds and
utterd these simple words of I
Love You father ( who's now in
heaven ) and yet I hope to hear
that grey bird sing again once
more for me
Farewell, love your son
Poem contest for Debbie -referential
Is it the rhythm in life
That we have issues and strife
The rhythm in life is a beat
A beat that puts you heart out in the street
The street is where it all goes down
It goes down to make you frown
Some people laugh and play
Other people sit and stay
We all want to wear it
And even compare it
In my room sometime strain at the wall
In my mind hear my conscience call
In life alone
We don’t pick up the phone
And we lose the milestone
The trust of the fact that
We are not all that!
Alphabet amazes me
Being 26 characters long
Deciding the fate of heroes
Eyes reading stories of the past
Forgetting the truth behind words
Gatsby telling lies
I can even create a world
Just for me to live in with
Kool-Aid flavored oceans
Lemon filled trees
My own tiny universe
Nothing but the alphabet weaves it
Only I can explore, unless invited
People in my world are twisted
Quieted they stay
Rebelling against authority
Saying only they’re allowed to fight
Tomorrow will be different
Umbrellas will be sent into the air
Vanilla ice cream flowing in rivers
When I come to end the world
X-rays will be sent
You will see
Zero people left in the world of letters.
It hits me like a wave, churning deep within my gut.
Holding my breath as the situation sinks in.
(Climbing a stairway to heaven)
People staring, eyes peering, thinking of a way to get out
(drifting up in a cloud of smoke)
Pale face reddens as heartbeat quickens
(Flying away on invisible wings)
Running, fleeing, where can I go?
(End of the rainbow)
Dirt swallows me up, blanking my mind
(Calm, peaceful, no more worries)
Frozen in awkwardness, palm to my forehead
Stuck in reality.
Life's gifts is of all the good and
Never knowing what may arise
An angel is everlasting hope we
long to have and to hold
We have watched you through
just like a hawk
We will never give up on you
we know you are strong
Who the angels will pull you
Where there is a will there's a
And with god looking over us
well know we will be safe
Even tho this deadly danger of
a disease took you over
We know in our hearts that
steady burns yull be ok
As a fighter like Athena (a
warriors guide)you will grow
Even now we see your alot
Must be these guardians of
heaven looking over you
Feeling good with this is all you
This danger none should live
But as long as there is Angels
up above its all you will ever
need to pull through
A tragic time.
- by Brian O'Toole
Caregiver of a cancer patient
I stopped to stool siphon sip on a cool blue
circumstance in the means between the in
times loath listening to complacent
poetic prostitutional practices of stir my friends
ego echoes doing the same f. u. c. k. e. d.
favor dance for me when I ego envy enter
exist your contra content littered with
manic moronic mentaloronic maladies
of entrance entrocities. Lining words
pentamhextamater, rich rhyme, cleaveage crotch
clearance, colic c.u.n. t. coffiure
frantic fascist frames, abounding with
wok out at me sillo sounds
composite of cruel crisp compound
cumulo capsules of I, me, mine
mousy miniscules in drop dreamy
lovelorn lostlust learned
limitations lauded longevity living
linguistic liquidlovelorn light
leaking lanterns, which bequeath
*****in broth biscuited breveties
lucid laminated with word wornwaste
catagorical crass. Leave wailwall
enough alone when yr tackless
trash talent is way less than spittle,
your poor prowess less than dodah duh, Po e tree?
So, my wordful children of BS, when writing yr so called pitypoetry,
devoid of dream dance diminutives coinciding correctly with wrenching wraps
of prostitutional ponder relentelessingly revealing a rapture
of vast vile emoelements of comprosotory
composites of fecalfroughtfrightfolly of fantasies in
poet emeritus of urineyourns a 3 way stretch non nobel poetlorietsupreme
goodfistingluckwiththatcrap;therefore u either play the game or
risk reside in the zombie aperature camera obsecura word death orbit; therefore
Assimilitate before u ass umulate,
Build before u bridge buldge
Concentrate before u cumulo capsulate
Decide before u dildo dick tate
Engulf before u evo enevelop
Fragment before u fracture fantasize
Grasp before u geno germinate
Hallucinate before u hasty hippocrate
Initialize before u initiate
Jackulate before u Jillulasm
Literate before u laud luminate
Mentor before u mirror menstruate
Nurtuate before u neuro negate
Obliviate before u oogle obligate
Postulate before u priest present
Question before u quotionent quest
Recreate before u radical resonnate
Saturate before u semen sacrlidge
Tintalate before u trick translate
Utilize before u usurp ugly
Victory before u vile vanquish
Want before u willful waste
X-turn right @ W follow the X signs
Yuletides before u yell yeildtides
Zeusotide before u zonk zerozilchotones.
life alone is bitter and cold
with no one to love no one to hold
the long dark nights waking up on your own
got money to spend but no one to phone
to live like this
to die with my shame
to have love for so many with nothing to gain
but where all born with a purpous reason for life
but mine has been shattered like the shine off a knife
say the meaning of life and it looses its shine
no one can own it to me it is all mine
can life be this cruel or is it just me
ive lost the way to my heart and i cant find the key
to write all my feelings to write all my pain
my heart is now empty cold like the nigh rain
but we all must be love to be loved and forgotten
to be buried six feet under and left to go rotten
although i am 20 and my life is ahead
but my pain will go on until i am dead
I stand brave at might within my room
Without a single sight of fear
As thunder roars from outside
My heart as pure as gold
This ugly bloody demon came upon me
Face so gruesome yet posed expression without a soul to take
Here in a home of faith that lingers in
Thou demon in the night you can not have my heart nor soul and steal it within this night
As the demon spoke to me in tounges
I could not understand words that's been spoken
And as I pray on my knees with my merry roseary beds in palm
I wished for this demon to banish forever from my sight
And never again to appear to me within thee night
That demon in the night can harm me no more
By Brian Otoole
If I were a poet, I'd write about
life's simplest pleasures.
I'd write about daydreaming
under a beautiful tree,
surrounded by a quiet crisp
If I were a poet I'd be able to
exhilarate my readers with such
words that awaken their souls
and show them that life is truly
I'd let everyone know what's in
my heart and teach them there
is a light, a silver lining! That
there is always hope.
I'd Take them on a journey
through my dreams, and share
my thoughts of brotherhood
and admiration for the earth
and it's gifts.
If I were a poet.. I'd create a
magical inspirational place for
all hearts of darkness to enter
in need of a kind word.
If i were a poet, my pen and
paper like weapons on the
negative forces of the mind.
The nagging fear. The
perpetual hostility in an
But I am not a poet. I'm simply
a good person gifted in finding
appreciation in my simple life.
MY heart and mind are at war
My heart and my mind are at war,
Body and soul lost between the hate,
Confused and hurt not knowing what for,
They pull, twist and fight to escape,
The battle of pain sweat and tears,
Caught in the midst of heartache,
My soul breaks free and leaves behind its fears,
The pain is too much for my body to take,
I built a wall and smashed it to dust,
For another, but for what,
I lost my faith and lost her touch,
I am soulless standing here stuck,
My mind has won this war,
My heart damaged and broke,
Still not knowing what for,
I pray and i still hope,
That this war will end,
And mind and heart will coincide,
Hoping my soul and body will mend,
For the rest of me has already died
I am done with the pain of passion,
And done with the love of pain,
All i here is my hearts door's crashing,
For this is what makes a man go insane,
I felt her love i loved her touch,
I kissed her lips and she kissed my heart,
Now this feeling, i feel too much,
Now it’s time for my mind and heart to part,
I will see her eyes in the moon lit sky,
Her beauty in a sky of wonder,
I will shed one tear and let the pain die,
As i lay awake in a world of loveless slumber
The illusions of love corrupted my mind,
The confusion of passion clouded my eyes,
The death of my heart came soon this time,
So now i will love in a world of my demise,
You can’t feel this pain that i feel,
I am done trying and this time i am,
When i write i write what’s real,
So now can you see why my soul ran?
Can you stop and wonder,
How i made it so far, with so much pain,
Can you here my heart crack with thunder,
And can you see i live in a world of rain,
I have sought love found it and lost i
I am tired of pain. so tired my heart is exhausted
i am done now if she comes back then i am here,
if not like i said i have shed my one and only tear
I remember many years ago, when I
was just a lad,
My biggest hero in my life, happened
to be my dad.
I grew up with no siblings, in a
And daily as a child, I'd write a story
and a poem.
I'd discuss how my day went and the
things that I had done,
And put words to my feelings, be it
happy, sad or fun.
I'd keep them in a binder, tucked
underneath my bed,
Well hidden from intruders, near
where I'd rest my head.
Many years later, as a teen, my
They tell me dads moving to another
He decided to leave his family and
work on his career,
Things hadn't been so good at home
for well over a year.
I hold in the tears, run upstairs and
begin to write.
About the terrible news I got, that
late school night.
I rip out my binders, and sit quickly
in my chair.
I write "why do I do this, no one
seems to care".
I grab all my diaries, from my
throw them in a garbage bag and
take them out for trash.
For many years I never took out a
paper and pen,
I promised myself this day I would
never write again.
I visit my dad often, til life gets in
And visits turn to phone calls as we
run outta things to say.
He would say that he loved me, I'd
say I loved him too.
But our conversations remained
small, we were never really true.
I get the dreaded phone call in
God had come to take my dad and
bring him up to heaven.
I go through my dads stuff, and
what defined his life,
Pictures of dead relatives, my family,
his ex wife.
I miss the times we had, even our
Hidden in his closet, I pull out a big
When I move the box, I can't
believe my eyes,
My family runs in the room, when
they hear my sobbing cries.
The writings I had thrown out so
many years before.
Were neatly piled behind the box, on
the closet floor.
I read through the pages, memories
flood my mind,
My life as a child so neatly defined.
I make it to the last page, I find
written in blue, under "No one seems
My Daddy wrote "I do"
I thought I could do it,
an all nighter
pouring my heart out
throughout the night
on dis here lonely page,
my eyes got heavy
I fall asleep writing u
this here ..
made up words of mesh
I hope u can see clearly
through this mess..
its may not be perfect
but its filled with
lifes lessons an many love stories
pain will be through the whole thing.
its all true, its everything I've seen, an done
and then some...
I hope you'll. Like what u read
special thanks to
my mom pushed me to write
this whole thing....
''twas a new feeling-somewhat more
Then we even dares to own before
As I looked upon the stars
I hope and dreamed someone like you
Who can take me back to my old Irish roots
Never met anyone from the emerald hills of Ireland
Our Irish eyes gazing into each other
With the tall flowering hedges shade narrow
With head to shoulder on your skin
I long to be in your arms of joy
Show me your beauty and beauty of Ireland
With Rocky roads and ancient castles
Just tell me the words I long to hear
And we will be at least halfway
With many tremendous miles apart
I keep wishing to be with you even just once
Wherever you may be or wherever you shall go
Just always remember I longed for you
On the field of bliss forever on My mind
With my Irish eyes that long for you
By Brian Otoole
Sitting here in front of your image
I desired from my past
My body all in tingles
Body gets fired up like the summer heat
All emotions running wild
I know I should not lust it's unjust
But you look so good yet so fantastic
I can almost taste you with my lips with lust
I can not control it
Is it wrong that I love the way your presence is
You are a lier and a cheat thief in the night
Tonight your everything I desired
Like a roman warrior god
Love your aching heart
Just a work of arts desire
Did not know this love could feel so good
Your dangerous I don't care
Maybe I'm naive
Your my perfect kind of desire
I long for you can you save me from that cloud
By- Brian Otoole
I sit here with my mind in in a tangle and twist.
Wondering how in the world did it get like this.
My stomach is in a knot, and my heart is racing.
Hoping you're mine for the taking.
Your melodic laugh and dazzling eyes will be the death of me,
All of this I think while I play with your cinnamon colored hair.
How crazy and blissful,
How absolutely remarkable.
There's nobody in this world that I've met
that is more likeable.
Walking these streets of manhattan so aimlessly
All alone in the dark only lights by the city shops
I'm scared alone feeling out of love now lost the knife was rough
You stabbed me in the back all I can do is Cry on my knees veins hot as fire
With mixed emotions running through
It's Like this dagger killing me more inside all this love and all this hate burns me away
Deep inside passion urning for another lusting after another
As if I were a lion in a jungle taking that prey and burning up with tense desire
It's like a knife with loves wounds after the lust
This is very hard for me in a world you left me bleeding alone
Never picked me up left my heart to die out
With my tears hitting the city pavement times like this just burns me away
Love can go off like a loaded gun a love vanishes just like a knife with lust
-- by Brian OToole jr.
Late at night when I'm alone with my thoughts, I write
I write about what's on my mind or what may be troubling me
I write about people around me, how easily I can be touched by people in need
or someone who may need a shoulder to cry on or a voice encouragement telling them everything will be alright
I write about my life, the challenges, disappointments, some leaving behind scars that are slow to heal or may never will
I write about love, awaiting that special someone lurking in the shadows, the one god has created just for me
I write as an outlet, an expression, or a getaway, where on paper my mind is free to race, to take me where anything is possible.....in my dreams
I sit all day writing away.
Thing that makes since and some that don't.
A joke I write or one to make you cry.
One to make you proud.
One of a cloud.
One of a cat and a bird.
Trees and maybe a flea.
Writing is a joy to me!
30 days has November,and April
All the rest are 31
What do you want for Christmas a new toy
a car,piano maybe
They are all Enthralled by different sounds.
Successful is what I long to be
I am proud of what accomplishments I have made
Everyone says to write a story of my life
Really is life this hard for all?
Ready, for a challenge that I can try
Always trying to stay positive even in times of struggles
Clueless to where life shall take me
Already a mother at 17
Ready to write at a moments notice
Trying to succeed in life
Excited to know God
Responsible for what I have done
A man that cries alone is a man that dies alone
Living life through the words of a heart filled song
The heart beats to the rhythm of the soul which is hard to contain
The feeling of lost and rejection never can be maintained
If I should die tomorrow where will I go?
Give my flowers while I’m alive because when I’m gone I will never know
In life trials and troubles it seems like one way in and no way out
Doing the right thing but getting the wrong results leaves nothing but a fearful doubt
My past is my past so please don’t judge me
We live in the present so look past all my imperfections and know there is a future that I seek
It’s amazing how the finger points and the beam is blinding your eyes
The truth is always seen no need of a disguise
I died a million deaths and still I stand strong
I was never a follower of anyone because of these battles I have to fight alone
I failed a couple of times which most people liked it that way
They kicked me while I was down and only hoped that was the position that I stayed
But still I rise with a victory of a bittersweet taste
I turned and walked away but happily went back to pick up their faces
I don’t seek for revenge for you reap what you sew
Before your lips part and speak that vapor I will let you prepare yourself to take these notes
I use it to bare purpose, in a life where lights aren't as bright
as she would like them to be,...good days are catergorized
as long naps and "chick flicks" that tell stories of a love
aged, even though innocense is seen as the plot,...sometimes
she doesn't wanna speak of her plight, so smiley faces
come across to hide what's really inside,...I know she's
hurting, and she knows that I'm hurting, but we both rather
talk about our friends instead,...for their lives are much
sillier than ours, and some days laughs are hard to come by,
so I take this pen with green ink in it and try to write lines in the
sky,...Being a romantic is hard when I'm hopeless and she's
hopeful that I just let my feelings for her subside,...I ask her
why?, I believe this pen with green ink can make you happy,
but she sees it as a dream, kinda like when art reflects life,...
I guess you can never comprehend the depths that one is
willing to go to make themselves invisible, but she's anything
but to me,...I see it as a privledge to write with this pen, with
this green ink, on this paper, that I've found in a pad,...I use
it to bare purpose, to write lines in the sky, that might spell
out her name,...she gave me a pen, I gave her a dream, so
I'm guessing the green ink is where we meet in-between,...
I have forever thought about death
Living my life was such a threat
so when I decided to write this poem
I thought long and hard about what could go wrong
the way people interpret things
Makes the poetic thought not want to sing
still I write My thoughts all down on paper
wonder "Will it draper?"
over their Naive eyes
Will they see it, probably not, they're too demised
They will see me wanting nothing
hiding from this world of something
OPPERTUNITY is NOT seize the day
CARPE DIEM thats what they say
the only seizing that I'll do
is when my body goes "Achoo!"
And my body drops hard to the floor
like some battering ram knocking down a door
then to the hospital they will take me
and UP the dosage all the way, SEE?
to make things worse they'll find something new
like what was once juvenile is becoming prgressive too
then people will treat me nicer
because I have problems to decipher
about this wretched little life I live
so, now, I say it again
I have forever thought about death
living MY life is suchs a threat
to all who know me one wrong touch
and THEIR lives will turn to dust
because they found me in my bed
they found me lying here, DEAD!
Stop stalkin me and go find someone for you
you need a woman
i thought all my ignorant messages got through to you.
don't you understand i already got a man
you need a woman
You need a woman who is deep as my poetry
and smooth as my voice
a woman who's tongue aight the only thing that's moist
she need to be able to spit fiya like a dragon but her breath stay fresh
need a woman you can read from back to front and still want to write the rest
you want a woman that can read you write you and no matter how bad it is, she
won't ever erase you
gotta get that woman who keeps you spellbound and speechless
you need a woman from head to toe the body is sick
someone who's lips are so vicious they give you brain without ever fooling with
i'm telling you, you will love this woman and all the different flavors
from similies to metaphores and her classy ho style phrases
she a freak she a mystery she a candid expression of your inner most ideal
she is a baby face bombshell with inticing whip appeal.
in the beginning its all fun and games but you will never forget her once you get
you want her
don't even try to let it go
you want her
and this is one thing that's obvious for sure
now read this back and realize what type fo woman you need.
you don't need a woman, you need poetry.
i was at my second period reading class
our assignment was to write a poem
the poems you write reflects you
if you write
funny and happy poems
you are probally always smiling
if they are
sad and make you wanna cry
things have probally happen to you in your life
if they are a mix of both
you are probally a typical person
if they are about life living and friends
you are probally worship living and things that come to your life
i look around
and see everyone writing their poems
but i sit here rapping my pencil
thinking about what i shoud write
our teacher picks us to read our poem
one by one
when he calls me
i stand in front of the class
and read them this poem
When you’re in love you well think of her day and night.
When you’re in love you well dream of her every night.
When you’re in love you well pray for her every night.
When you’re in love you well care for her like nobody does.
When you’re in love she well drive you insane.
When you’re in love you well protect her with your own life.
When you’re in love you well do whatever for her even giving up your life.
When you’re in love you well be with her in good or bad times.
When you’re in love you well wonder about her everyday and night.
When you’re in love you well cry when she cry’s.
When you’re in love you well be happy when she is happy.
When you’re in love you well talk about her every time you talk.
When you’re in love you well get nerves every time she is close.
When you’re in love you’re heart well scram for her.
When you’re in love you’re heart well love her.
When you’re in love you well not be able to live without her.
When you’re in love you well do crazy things with her.
When you’re in love you well write poems about her.
When you’re in love you well write songs about her.
When you’re in love you well call her just to hear her voice.
When you’re in love you well miss her when she is going.
When you’re in love you well tell her that you love her with all your heart.
When you’re in love you well love her even if she does not love you.
They tell me i'm crazy because i choose to sleep in my car, quickly they add up
how much money i should be making. to that i can only reply, in order to achieve
the goals i want to reach i must endure a little suffering now. i call myself crazy
cause i wish to write to and about you passionately. to that i can only say i hardly
know you. this is not a poem and i tried not to write in any rhythmic pattern. just
thoughts that need releasing, thoughts i've long tried to ignore.
i try to be happy but its hard when it seems so much is going so wrong. six
weeks ago i totaled my ride; my folks tell me God was looking out for me. that’s
kinda hard for me to believe when there are so many more that not only need
him/her but want him/her to be a presence in their lives.
i work day in and day out but i cant show you anything worth while. voices tell me
i'm an emt i should be happy saving lives, but they don’t see the hell i see. the
voices love me, i can tell they do, it's in the messages they give to me. they talk of
things i need to be doing, and refuse to hear the things i want to be doing. voices
are all i have to tell who's who, you see their faces have long since faded in order
to release all emotional attachment.
i hope you stayed with me this far, because i'm talking about happiness. some
day is too far away to wait and tomorrow is too soon to obtain all i have set for
self. i think i'll choose to find happiness now writing, more so writing with you in
mind. from this i hope questions will arise, questions that will be asked and
answers demanded. my thoughts don’t stop coming though i wish they would.
I write your name in the sand
but the water washes it away
I write your name in the sky
and the wind blows it away
I write your name in my head
and my other thoughts push it away
I write your name in my heart
and forever it will stay
Hey everyone, lately i've found this website called www . Talevault . com . As many of you love to read and write poetry/tales/short stories, I might aswell share this with everyone! What I really like about this website is the point system. You can collect points by viewing poems and by favorite/sharing them. The points can be used to promote/advertise your poetry. Soon they will also start writing contests with weekly subjects. The winner will be rewarded. I'm pretty sure soon they will come up with more cool stuff My account there is Parraloco, i just started writing poetry. Comment your accountname and i'll check out your posts ^^ Let me know what you think about this website.
Have a nice day everyone!
I was standing on the corner, in a place I've never been;
the merchants of enticement, were inviting to come in.
The ladies on the corner; were hoping there will be;
A chance to make some dollars, from any man they see.
The bums up in the alley, were trying to lose the're minds
While swaying to the motions of intoxicating wine.
Hanging in a group, were guys all dressed in black;
It appeared that they were hoodlums, who lived across the tracks.
A grungy down beat rhythm, was blaring from the bars;
The signs outside were claiming, that the girls inside were stars.
Coming down the street and looking out of place;
Was a man inside a Bently, with a cigar stuck in his face.
All at once I heard it, a fight had just broke out,
Knives and guns were flashing and some girl began to shout.
Oh my god they shot him (she said; I think my baby's dead;
I didn't see what happened but he was bleeding from the head.
People from the bars, were hanging out the doors;
And the bums up in the alley, started running for the store.
The guys all dressed in black were frozen in a stance;
And then they started hopping, like in some kind of dance.
The ladies of the night, were trying to make a plan;
They were trying to find a way to get, wallet from the man.
I turned and started walking, away from all the fuss;
I walked a couple blocks and then I caught a bus.
It happened up on Broadway, on the night of New Years Eve;
In the town of San Francisco, the city by the sea.
I was twenty one and looking for some action;
It was more than I had bargained for, in fact it sent me packing.
The next time that I went there, I had myself a gun;
And some fellows from the posse, but all we had was fun.
There were other things that happened,other times that I was there;
And I might write about it, if I see that any care.
So if you liked the story and care to read some more;
Be sure to write and say so, I'll pull my notes out of the drawer.