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
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