Did you call last night, I never heard a sound
just the distant hum of a soul quite nearby
only another lonely person passing by.

Life on the street as a lonely old *****
Under the bridge and out of sight
I live in a loneliness in my own plight

But things you left, things I saw
bits of messages left for me
why won’t you go and let me be.

Is it the ***** or is it the drugs
why can’t I make out the words
it makes no more sense than all the dog turds.

Did you leave anything when you called last night
I’ve thought once or twice about ending my life
But I’d get more drugs if I sold the knife.

How the hell did it get to this point
I’m always to far gone to care
I’m not even sure that I’m even there.

©Joe Wilson – Life, or is it…2014