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Drunk Driver's.

    Intoxicated again?
Ah! the limits of power,
One free of all blame
'Your drink of the hour'

What is thought to be proper
In a mind that can't think,
To protect or be honest
'Maybe have another drink'

Showing good conduct
Impossible to do,
Yet fabricate to loved ones
'The opposite is true'

What a fine way
To perpetuate your fame,
with incomplete success you
 'Condemn your own name'

The realty of your existence
Destroys children, wives, and mothers
The odds you'll kill before you die
'Makes the rest of us shudder'

Dedicated to M.A.D.

Political Babble

Merely this and nothing more, were the words spoken to make the crowds roar, nameless not blameless, shameless is muttered, alas, still more broken words will be uttered. Peering into realism cause the people to sigh, alone on the throne desolate words usher by. Mischievous, more devious words legends do tell, merrily live on while the forbidden prevails. Do you have faith in these words resembling one’s heard before, Prestige, greed, and power mark the rhymes of man’s horror. So very bold, and obscurely old intertwined in histories vast dabble This again is merely men with their political babble.

Someone Unfortunate


Someone unfortunate is pursing me, as with invisible wings he embraces me helplessly, and devours my heart. Like a blazing fire my emotions flare up uncovering matchless desire, caught like his prey I am collapsing as if into dark waters. Someone unfortunate is gazing upon me, he brightens my nights my dreams he controls. Hostile with finesse he entangles me passionately, in the ropes of his charms, aroused my heart is melting  blamelessly into his power. Help me for his passions will devour me, conceal me away from the net of his lips. Someone Unfortunate belongs to another, I hear his footsteps as he encircle my heart, constant like a flowing river he rekindles my desire, and I am wrapped in mourning.

Wicked

In robes of hate they walk around the hideous valleys inside their heads found, With unfastened restraint, and presumptuous minds, entombed in their hearts lie unspeakable crimes. They live by the sword, and will die by it too, this sort of breed; that we all know who, I dare not waste more luminous rhyme, they're not worth this ink nor our precious time.

When The Sun Came Up


You came home smiling with a six pack of beer, and a new CD you wanted me to hear, but the sun came up another day and once again your blown away.  Why'd you ever let things get this far? Living your life out in a bar. Could've held on to the one's you've denied instead of out struggling on the other side.  Weak minded followers cling to you and hang around just to drink with you. Cheering you on like a celebrity then leaving you passed out on the street.  I tried to free you from all your debt,  kissed your brow and wiped your sweat. I read about your pain in your poetry. I heard your heart break when you sang for me.  The ones you trusted took you in to gloat. Letting you run free was like cutting your throat. When the sun came up they refuse to be stuck. So they sent you away and then said good luck.  Like a self made savior you rewrite your blues and dance with the derelicts in your worn out shoes. In your Buffalo Exchange with your long facial hair you run like an orphan on a street called nowhere.  Tears spilling out from the hole in your heart drenching the strings on your stolen guitar. The worn down lead in your pencil wood reveals timeless hours writing just to feel good. When the sun came up another day.......

I Love You Mikey.