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I’m talking to you about a young white boy wandering bad neighborhoods
You never warned me about the wolves in the woods
You simply walked me to the edge and you left without a word
You didn’t tell me how to wage a war without armaments, or an army
So there I was to either waste away or war with the weather
Storms were just something to beat
And it’s death, 
To defeat 
and battle back in the bleakness of horrid heat  
To win over the frigid fiascoes 
the rain with its virgin drops and unholy wind
And it ain’t going to do me no good to start having contrition now because I’ve sinned

You never forecasted a forest filled with fiends and fear
You simply and stealthily took off and left me there
Alone again to find a way to find what I need most
A forest in which I had to fend for myself
And defend myself against a ghost

I looked out for snakes that slither the city sidewalks hawking their wares
The ones like I with needles and need
You didn’t tutor me on how to feed myself or find shelter because money is a thing of the past
Since every vagrant penny goes in your arm
You didn’t explain how easily my physical being could meet Hell or come to harm 
Walking into a trap because the man says he’s got that which  I am there for
Then he puts a gun to your head the minute he closes the door
And the money that was supposed to buy you peace was no more

The woods, the forests, the darkest avenues of avid scum out to avenge something or 

because in the woods there are a lot of hungry people and others who can live on revenge 
alone for what someone else has done

And in the forest  there are varied types of fruit growing on trees that tremble for my trouble
But not one tree opted to shade me from the sun or not be withered by the wind
And the birds of prey that come in pairs  praying that death be mine
You never told me about the darkness with no tunnel out or exit of any kind
For we were none so  blind
You left me here with society’s victims who all wanted the same thing
 A way to wage a war, a way to weather a storm, some hope and thirty bags of dope
When you put that first needle in my arm you knew it was a scary slope and that I  would 
conquer or fall
Yet and still you thought I knew it all
Doing what needs to be done and done for good
However here I am again, still searching for powdered peace in a bad neighborhood
             © 2011.....poefree

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

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