Smokey bars and lucid scars
Muted truths,
Memories of a distant youth,
Stolen scenes from magazines,
Amphetamines,
Walking in on adult scenes.
Old enough to run away,
Hopeless born out of decay,
Wise enough to see the wrong,
Write a poem,
Sing a song.
The smell of cigarettes and whisky still disarm,
The shiny glint from razor blades still holds a tempting charm,
They’re  the voices of my troubled youth,
Trying to pull me down,
The circus i escaped from,
Pining for it’s clown.