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Jan 30
Empty pockets
Spread threadbare,
Growling stomachs
Ached despair.
Ain't no money to see
In this mess of a reverie.
Cold winters kissing me,
Smokey wind upon my door.

If only I had one...

I'd be all set,
Chaufer driving me
To my charming jet.
My honey and I
Would always kiss sweet,
Never having to worry
About what to eat.

If only...
life weren't so grim.
Poverty & cheap thrills
Wearing my spirits thin.
My charcuterie is plastic,
So is my base lifestyle.
I'm dreary eyed with things drastic,
Trying to chase a break for a while.
But my blues are static
And they're charging me up
Just to drive me wild.
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