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john-patrick-robbins-aka-gonzoPoems
Life and cigarettes burn to fast. We waste are time. So within the moment you bask. A pretty face has to age. Every story meets it's final page. When life breaks you over its cost. Then you'll sing a lullaby to the lost. The lights in the street hide all but the truth my dear. You can act. But you can never mask your fear. In dark rooms you sell all but your soul. A wicked moment a stolen encounter. All things take there toll. That sweet face has tuirned hard your so warm to be cold. A secret that the bitter have already told. Can you wash away there stench as from the past you are tossed. In dark corners blood stained angles sing a lullaby to the lost. Is this hell or a nightmare that knows no end. A cell to most. To others the only refuge inwhich they can depend. she falls to the floor a lost look needle in arm. Most will rememeber a doomed fool. Others her wreckless charm. She was a junkie and a easy lay. More bones are broken. Over words others say. She sold flesh but payed the ultimate cost. In a dingy corner of th world. Were the angles sing a lullaby to the lost.
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Nov 19, 2009
Nov 19, 2009 at 12:10 PM UTC
Lulalbye To The Lost
Life and cigarettes burn to fast. We waste are time. So within the moment you bask. A pretty face has to age. Every story meets it's final page. When life breaks you over its cost. Then you'll sing a lullaby to the lost. The lights in the street hide all but the truth my dear. You can act. But you can never mask your fear. In dark rooms you sell all but your soul. A wicked moment a stolen encounter. All things take there toll. That sweet face has tuirned hard your so warm to be cold. A secret that the bitter have already told. Can you wash away there stench as from the past you are tossed. In dark corners blood stained angles sing a lullaby to the lost. Is this hell or a nightmare that knows no end. A cell to most. To others the only refuge inwhich they can depend. she falls to the floor a lost look needle in arm. Most will rememeber a doomed fool. Others her wreckless charm. She was a junkie and a easy lay. More bones are broken. Over words others say. She sold flesh but payed the ultimate cost. In a dingy corner of th world. Were the angles sing a lullaby to the lost.
john-patrick-robbins-aka-gonzo
Written by
john-patrick-robbins-aka-gonzo
American
Nov 19, 2009
Nov 19, 2009 at 12:10 PM UTC
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