Ken O Leary Poet Rhyme

Friends,Who Needs Em

I DONT NEED ENEMIES WITH THE FRIENDS I GOT,
WHAT A FINE BUNCH TO RELY ON WHEN I AM IN A STICKY SPOT,
I PULL A BIT OF PORRIDGE AND THINK I WILL BE ALRIGHT,
THE BOYS WILL RALLY ROUND AND MAKE MY TIME LIGHT,

THEY PROMISE LETTERS BY THE BUCKET AND VISITS BY THE SCORE,
PARCELS EVERY OTHER NIGHT,DRINK,FAGS GALORE,
YOU WILL BE SWEET YOU WONT GO SHORT I HEAR THEM SAY,
DONT LOSE HOPE WE WILL GET YOU DOPE IT WILL KILL THE TIME AWAY,

OUT OF SIGHT AND OUT OF MIND SEEMS TO BE THE NORM,
LOOKS LIKE THEM MATES OF MINE ARE RUNNING TRUE TO FORM,
I AM NOT SHORT OF DRINKING PALS WHEN I AM IN THE CHAIR,
AS WHEN MY HAND IS IN MY POCKET ALL THE PIGS ARE THERE,

THEY CANNOT PUT PEN TO PAPER TO SAVE THEIR BLOODY LIVES,
AND WHEN ASKED TO PAY A VISIT ON APATHY ARRIVES,
WHINING LOAD OF SCUM EXCUSES ALL THE WAY,
AS REGARDS THE PARCELS,THAT WILL BE THE DAY,

IF I HOLD UP THE FINGERS FOR ALL THE TRUE FRIENDS I GOT,
THE TWO POINTING SKYWARDS WOULD BE THE LOT,
THAT SIGN HOLDS THE MESSAGE TO ALL MY SO CALLED  CHUMS,I WILL DO THE SAME FOR 
YOU ONE DAY,YOU SHOWER OF  NO GOOD BUMS

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Kate Mcnaughton December 16, 2009 at 3:01 AM Strong stuff Ken, seems as if you hung with the wrong crowd, now you are paying the price.

Danielle White December 13, 2009 at 2:57 AM Wow! Whole lotta' angst here. Whew. I am impressed by your obvious intelligence and good education. AND I think you are a talented poet. Remember, as an artist, you must learn to suffer, as from suffering, comes art. ***Danielle***