Cherries taste succulently sweet,
wet with morning mist

Beckoning boys in summer's heat,
hoping they’ll be picked

Cherries gleam ripe ruby red,
when growing wild and free

Dreaming to whom they will be fed,
a cherry’s jubilee.

remember
when music was
pure & uncut,
when we were all users
trying to survive?

addicted to
the crack-le of
the needle
as it hit the 45?

back when the
natural high of
heart & soul
was enough to suffice?

we’re just
some junkies
looking to score

excuse me mister,
could you spare a dime?

hopefuls
stay afloat
in paper boats
bleeding ink
as they sink
in a sea of stars