I Feel like
$100 in the pocket of a gambling loser
Drunk at a casino
9AM.
And Two Something's are playing
Tug-o-war with
my heart-strings
Nostalgic summer flings, bye bye
Goodbye young kings
I Feel like no one ever
Discovered fire in my life & it's still Dark in here
A dark, drunk destiny?
"Please not me"
$100 can go far -
But I'm anxious.
There's always that dwindling thought that
There's a diabolical grand hand
Reaching down from above in malice.
And like The Rapture, or an alien abduction,
Being taken.
Apr 19, 2012
Apr 19, 2012 at 1:06 AM UTC
I Feel like
$100 in the pocket of a gambling loser
Drunk at a casino
9AM.
And Two Something's are playing
Tug-o-war with
my heart-strings
Nostalgic summer flings, bye bye
Goodbye young kings
I Feel like no one ever
Discovered fire in my life & it's still Dark in here
A dark, drunk destiny?
"Please not me"
$100 can go far -
But I'm anxious.
There's always that dwindling thought that
There's a diabolical grand hand
Reaching down from above in malice.
And like The Rapture, or an alien abduction,
Being taken.
I would like to note: the first two lines I found scratched into the rust of an old abandoned school bus on the outskirts of Metro Detroit (where I live). No idea who wrote it, but it left a dent in my mind. I figured, "I'll make that into a poem"
