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Poem

It all happens after midnight
Anywhere’s the place to be after midnight
The good times don’t start until after midnight
Exhale a lil pot
Swallow a pill with snot
Got tossed up, tattooed and don’t know where my leg went
Spooked, you just got tabooed for the next segment
At age four I lost half my finger in a door 
Foster parents pissed on it and said “It’ll be a little sore”
Who would’ve thought, I was enlisted to be poor
A year later I took a razor and suffocated my reflection
To the day I’d be locate above or below heaven
If I could follow directions
My principal tried to retain me as a senior
No harsh feelings, by midterms I’ll be 43 
With advances in misdemeanors 
Sidewalk is where I drive
No room for pedestrians
Hide and stalk, I’m surprised you’re still alive
Nothing gets under my skin
Like the homosexuality that ponders with straight men
And these truth commercials don’t speak
It’s like telling me if I piss in pull ups they won’t leak
Walked into a post marriage shower room
Lucky tostill be breathing
Memories flower my doom
Left OJ’s cold case and waltz into Scott Petersons
I’d be a lie if I said a killer you’re not
You dumb duck, you should have beat her with the gun
Meet her with the fun, send her a foreign son
Fall dead to the force of inertia
Either that or croak 
From not paying attention to these abstinence commercials

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