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Fresh back On the street From prison A pumped up Hilarious Hercules Forced to sleep Under a bridge Along with The broken And dead Wind blown umbrellas Now, yet another Up-rooted Member of the homeless Flashing his middle finger At these so called modern times Not even a bottle of wine To keep him company The whining engines Of passing cars Echoing off the Concrete and steel Ripping and tearing At his overblown ego shredding it into strips He knows it wont be long Before he returns to a cell block By his own choice Not knowing anything But a life of crime since his youth
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Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 2:31 AM UTC
Boomerang
Fresh back On the street From prison A pumped up Hilarious Hercules Forced to sleep Under a bridge Along with The broken And dead Wind blown umbrellas Now, yet another Up-rooted Member of the homeless Flashing his middle finger At these so called modern times Not even a bottle of wine To keep him company The whining engines Of passing cars Echoing off the Concrete and steel Ripping and tearing At his overblown ego shredding it into strips He knows it wont be long Before he returns to a cell block By his own choice Not knowing anything But a life of crime since his youth
irving-macpherson
Written by
New Scotland
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 2:31 AM UTC
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