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Lou Romano Apr 2020
I'm so tired
In this cage
Life admired
Can't engage

Wasting away
Pitiful sorrow
Praying today
For life tomorrow
Lock-down blues
Brody Blue Mar 2020
Light divides no darkness,
Darkness draws no line:
Life ain't worth living
When love is left behind

Briars bear no flowers,
Flowers yield no wine:
Life ain't worth living
When love is left behind

Rhyme reveals no reason,
Reason saves no time:
Life ain't worth living
When love is left behind
Life offers no honey
When you have no money
There isn't time to be jolly
When everything is phony

Life is bent
When you live without a cent
Always worrying about rent
When everyday is lent

Life is long
When you just can't belong
Can't listen to no sweet song
Cause they're all kinda wrong

Life is no gain
When everyday it rains
You can never be main
Just can't watch to be lain_dead.

PRETA PEACE NAMASABA
namasabapeacepreta@gmail.com
Unpolished Ink Feb 2020
Robert Johnson

King of the blues

All shiny shoes and tilted hat

They don't come any hotter that that

He played the tunes of hearts desire

Guitar that smoked unholy fire

Furious notes from flaming fingers

Cracks the summer heat and lingers

Floating on the delta air

Each string a song of dark despair

Did Robert Johnson sell his soul

For music that would make him whole

Beauty style and heavenly grace

May start off in another place

The devils music leaves an odour

Could it be a whiff of soda!
Robert Leroy Johnson born 1911 the greatest blues guitarist ever born-was reputed to have sold his soul to the devil
Mark Feb 2020
The blues are in us all, no matter where your from
Not just in Uncle Sam or from a good ole Uncle Tom
If bitten, there’s all sorts of tricks and charms
If no color doctor about, tune into blues, to heal your qualms
But don’t sing it, if you aren’t prepared to bring it
Bottles are going to sink and eventually hit
Walls will be crawled up, then bounced off, in a rage of fit
But it’ll take a lifetime dose of blues music, to rid every **** hurting bit.
Mark Feb 2020
A guitarist from Alabama, kept on giving, even whilst laying in the hot sun    
Although he was taught the ropes, by the original Robbie Johnson    
The young teenager named Lockwood, from Turkey Scratch    
Was a maestro studio muso, but couldn’t lite a dry match    
He never made the pop charts with the record paying folks    
But a legend in the music scene, recording with other blokes    
Still, some people like me, would chuck a silver nickel in a jukebox, for a wopp    
In the beginning, most bands were sleepin’ on the rope.
Mark Feb 2020
Only friend I’ve ever had
Was my dear ole slave dad
He told me once, think about your future
Forget about the south’s criminal past
Cotton pickin’ and turnin’ plow, on a plantation field
He never once saw the money that it did yield
Big boss said, he almost cleared the books
Plantation bosses are the real crooks
Daddy gave them a fistful, got a spoonful in return.
Dream Fisher Feb 2020
Six people in every line,
I wait the time, it's really fine.
I'm sure they're busy, no need to tizzy,
The cashier looks dizzy in a rush.
While the man in front of me is getting flushed
He's yelling incoherently for all to see,
Apologies, sir, the rest of us
Have no place to be as you believe.
The line is moving,
placing everything on the conveyor
They're out of plastic so they bag in paper.
The cashier scans all of it in ten seconds flat
"Cash or card, sir?" I forgot my wallet.
Time to put it all back
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