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My Blues Are Being Picked Apart

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Below is the poem entitled My Blues Are Being Picked Apart which was written by poet Eugene Carmen. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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My Blues Are Being Picked Apart

Today I am pulled from everywhere, don't know which way to go
Like a kite with no string for the wind to blow
Don't know which way to go
Lawdy Miss Clawdy, come cleanse my soul
Alcohol has poisoned my red heart
It is hard to pick when your blues are picked apart
What do you do when there is no beginning and no end
No family to call, no help from a best friend
I said no help from a best friend
If no beginning or no end, where do I start
There is all cheap meanings to life when your blues are picked apart
So she left again mad, third time this week
I tell her don't call so we don't have to speak
I get out my home made hooch from under the sink
I am saying that my home made hooch is good enough to drink
After a little booze, everyone is wise, everyone has smarts
Your senses are fogged when your blues are being picked apart
Since my future is dim and dark, no sunglasses for me
Another bottle polished off, another drunk's story
I guess I don't need anyone to check on me, or my well being
Playing my guitar all day, fingertips now bleeding
What I yearn for can't be bought at K Mart
The helpless feeling you get when your blues are being picked apart


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