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Tony Clffton Poem
Your voice reminds me why going deaf aint so bad.
And why the old men down at the park
slowley go mad.
It's filled with regret over what what never will be.
That house in the hills.
The fancy cars the side little pets and poolboys.
Fake plastic faces to match the the fake personality's
So now your voice fills with anger and a touch of
failure.
I here the rejection even in my sleep.
It stabs me in my spine.
Doing that which your own hatred does for you.
You look to me as a inmate and as paycheck
Were cellmates not lovers we torture
for weve forgot to love.
Your voice echos
to my grave.
saying you could at least taken out the trash befor you kicked the bucket
you lazy bum.
Copyright © Tony Clffton | Year Posted 2009
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Tony Clffton Poem
Troubled heart and best friend.
Your love is ridding a rail.
Your hair within the wind.
Take the fragments from every one night stand.
The bottle is always half empty.
When passedfrom a guilty hand.
Am I your confessor Your lover your clown
or friend.
In empty arms you take refuge.
with many smiling fools none of which
you can depend.
Sorry I played the game withuot even
reading the rules.
Sorry I bleed from the heart.
Only to speak from the pen jules.
Run and hide try to erase your
thoughts from all.
In a labyrinth we do exist.
From that pool of nothing we crawl.
Should I fade like some villian down some dark
street.
Forgetting the encounter.
Only to recall a moment in another tragedy
we did meet.
Even the most firey passion cools.
cast away my wishes
and engave my words.
Forever my Jules.
Copyright © Tony Clffton | Year Posted 2009
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Tony Clffton Poem
Many will claim to be your friend .
Speak greatly about when your around.
Tell your the best just to get what they need.
And you in return will will become a shadow of who you once were.
Becuse you want to belive.
Your not blind yet you choose to stay in the dark.
Taking false thoughts over harsh realitys.
Changing into them.
Speaking there lingo telling there lies.
A free drink in a empty bar.
were clowns all surround you there goofy chatter
means nothing.
they feast apon truth and free will.
There attention is that of a misquote
Drinking from some half drunk fool who only
spots the pest untill he filled wih blood.
And to heavy to rd to fly away.
But when amoungest piranah your only
Living on borrowed time.
Copyright © Tony Clffton | Year Posted 2009
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Tony Clffton Poem
Its are church the place of confession were no one cares to listen.
They just gather to wait collecting dust and and spots on there livers.
The poetic fool who's blind to the truth.
And the beaten down and bitter old fighter.
Who missed his chance.
Who's last fight was with a cop who tried to give him a DUI.
Four broken ribs and a lot of booze and years later here he sits.
Shot of old crow and a beer.
He's sat in thta same spot for so many year i belive he's grown onto the
bar stool itself.
That pulling him from it would take a act of God or some old fashioned dynamite
to pry his ass from it.
He's the past and my future staring through me like a ghost.
His horse voice echo's I'll forget more than you'll ever learn still stays
with me to this very day.
The bar it's my refuge from all.
And as long as i have the money I can spend my hours within it's confines.
away from all thoose dellusional pains in the ass that love to tell
whats wrong with you.
Never once looking at themselves or wondering why people part like the red sea to avoid
them.
Cowards and theives and then theres bad people to.
Who sell hope dope.
Belive in this do as i say and you can be as misreble as me.
Where do I sign up.
The bar its the last resort of sanity.
Or at least a place where lifes problems can be fixed with some quarters for the
jukebox a beer and a shot.
Copyright © Tony Clffton | Year Posted 2009
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Tony Clffton Poem
I wonder was it ever as i did belive.
Was it more than a midnight encounter something that fuels a drunks thoughts
and emptys his pockets fater than a closing time bar bill.
As from the street I view the place I so often spent my nights looking down
at the misfits I now call company.
Her shadow haunts the window never daring to gaze directly at the fool she once
shared her bed with and so little else.
Bitter thoughts turn in my mind as the emptyness of my stomach matches
my heart.
As haunt her shadows only hoping to to catch a glimpse of that womabn.
who taut me pain and anger like a beaten dog yearning for love
from someone who only understands pain.
Was it all smoke and mirrors a cheap illusion like something
seen off the vegas strip.
As now I stand a cheap parody of a strong pissed off liar.
There is no mask that hide a fool.
As take one last glare at that window were a young fool
once would watch old drunks scatter after last call.
Till one night he stared to long and found himself
standing in same place .
A fool who sat amazed never knowing.
That loves greatest illusion is all smoke and mirrors.
Copyright © Tony Clffton | Year Posted 2009
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Tony Clffton Poem
Maybe it's just me or something I learned from the road.
Im seen as a person I know longer know.
The wind has turned a chill and it's telling me to go.
A man can smile while dying inside.
Im empty no longer can i find that common ground
inwhich to confide.
Alone in a place I dont wanna be unable to speak
for I am a coward whos held it in for so long I cant even function
like a normal person.
I need to hear it's goona be alright but I know what lurks
in the distance i see the road ahead shouldI just allow the pain
to consume me again.
I know the answer so with a heavy heart
to this book I write the final chapters end.
Maybe its a cowards act its not so easy when you understand
that in time you will lose anyway.
I am not a statue made of stone.
Content to stand cold and alone.
Nor do I wanna spend the rest of my life wishing for what does not
yern for me.
When im found I wonder howit will be seen.
Anger is normal I just ask that you never
forget me.
Copyright © Tony Clffton | Year Posted 2009
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