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Ricky
lonely
Ricky Lacey
Los Angeles, California    Poems live within all of us. Simple words that can turn into complex pieces.
Jane Tricky
she writes for he who can no longer write.

Poems

Little Ricky found a place to hide
where everything and nothing
came together to conquer the
demons that haunt and torture
his nostalgic thoughts.
Little Ricky locked his doors away  
and spent his time reading books
for months that bled into years
until he turned gray and the sun
started shying away but you could
still feel his shine.
Little Ricky felt the warmth of old
friendships as he drained cup after
cup but could not get drunk and
stayed in solitary with one song that
he would not share with this enrapturing
world that forgot about him.
Little Ricky plucked the strings until
he mastered his instrument but his
guts were filled with a mishmash of
passion, skepticism and captivity.
Little Ricky had an abnormally large 
financial burden but no matter the circumstances when he saw dying
flowers he always replaced them for
her and the audience cheered,
applauded, threw roses at his feet
and roared for an encore as he took
a bow and slowly disappeared
behind the red curtains where
nothing is forever certain....
except the end.