Intricate Instructions On How To Build a Nucl

A FRONT DOOR DU JOUR It might be because I disobeyed a regiment of rules Or is may have been my following the folly of fools It could be the “always looking back” life which I’ve led So if you shoot me do it the jugular vein to make certain I’m dead Perhaps it was the dreadful drums of thunder Or the spell which I was cast under I followed the wrong crowd of cohorts into catastrophes And have lived, ever since, between apostrophes I had a need for a needle and a syringe A fact which made my loved ones cringe Brightness became darkness which instantly invaded When all my hopes were harnessed and faded There were days of scars and secrets revealed And no one believed I could ever be healed There was no magic to make of me a man And even God knows I was following Satan’s plan Righteousness closed its eyes to me And foolishness seemed so wise to me But taking the wrong fork led to a sheer disgrace The same tragedy just with a different face I summarily and swiftly fell through the crack And became the flaw that broke this mammal’s back No one could rescue me from the wreckage of my mind Since there was no comfort for an incorrigible to find A rock became my pillow du jour And my cardboard box had no front door A steamy subway grating became my nighttime bed And that ain’t no way to live so I may as well be dead © 2011.….Phreepoetree