THE NIGHT FALLS

Written by: Elliott Bowe THe DrUnKeN POeT

I first lived in Brooklyn  
I later moved to queens

It was a struggle all we had to
eat was white rice and beans .
My whole life I watched people 
slit throats to chase their dreams. 

Gun shots was my alarm clock,
and the constant sound of ambulance
reminded me to cherish life To cherish 
a breath that many may never again

Mama always said don't keep friends to close, men will deceive you, 
I said yea right mama I don't believe you, until my friends turned in to snakes and snakes turned to lions and lions turned in to poison apples and then turned in to snakes again, moving in tall grass and took a big chunk out my ass and left a scar that will last,  
that's when I learned how to heal my own  wounds and take out my own trash  

I grew up to soon
I had to be a solider  
I had to be a goon 
to deal with these buffoons 

late nights, coming home drug addicts
would be stretched out on the steps ,
with a needle in his arm it wasn't anything 
new I continued to walk ,crossing over his 
body shaking my head

I knew he wasn't dead, it was just all the 
drugs that messed up his  head,

the hall way walls had dried 
blood stains and dried gum. 
The floors had empty cups, 
smoked cigarettes,empty 
weed bags and condoms.

A little kid walks by and asks what's that?
Her mom says its a balloon.
Knowing that shes growing up
and she will know far to soon 


The elavators has graffiti with 
small drying puddles of urine 
but I became immune to it
I stood at the corner


I slept on the floor with out a pillow for my head
I said it was better off being dead at least in the
coffin they give you cushion for your head...


To be continued My pen is to DRunk.....