Desperate Age

this is a stained and desperate age people hurrying from one high to another leaking hope, re-filling with rage fragmented families replaced with another filling the streets with the pains of our life lost in the crowds of insincere strangers hearts hardening daily to suffering or strife they live at the end, amid insanities dangers there is nothing easy about the world where they live love and life is cheap, the future has no value each day is spent getting, with no thought to give no purpose or goals, seldom anything new feel sorrow for those on that serrated edge and beware for your money, safety, and life they hide among us, on that bleakest ledge armed with nothing to lose, maybe a gun or a knife seeking to excape the sight of their own despair they slump in the shadows with no friends but drink hiding even from their fellows who would share a lonely drunk is a good one they think or maybe they saunter, or swagger around a pack or a gang, or a few feeling high making it known that this is their ground owning nothing but 6 feet by 2 when they die most haven't the sense to work for their pay no address they dare give, no home at all they haven't the nerve to leave their decay there's just to many bricks in the wall i made it out with sweat, blood, and a hammer i feel no despair, and i have found love to share that is what was missing, before i met her now i'm learning to love, and i truly care.