I walked the street,

               I was the lottery,

and when you span the wheel


you were a winner...

Jackpot, you got all the chambers..


And I wept..

Indestructible, for Johnny Cash
by Michael R. Burch

What is a mountain, but stone?
Or a spire, but a trinket of steel?
Johnny Cash is gone,
black from his hair to his bootheels.

Can a man out-endure mountains’ stone
if his songs lift us closer to heaven?
Can the steel in his voice vibrate on
till his words are our manna and leaven?

Then sing, all you mountains of stone,
with the rasp of his voice, and the gravel.
Let the twang of thumbed steel lead us home
through these weary dark ways all men travel.

For what is a mountain, but stone?
Or a spire, but a trinket of steel?
Johnny Cash lives on—
black from his hair to his bootheels.

Originally published by Strong Verse. When I was a teenager Johnny Cash used to pop into the Nashville McDonald’s where I worked to buy burgers after the Grand Ole Opry let out. True to his nickname, the Man in Black always wore black. I think he’s as immortal now as human beings can become, since someone will be singing songs he wrote and and recorded till the end of time. Keywords/Tags: Johnny Cash, black, hair, clothes, boots, voice, rasp, gravel, steel, guitar, songs, music, mountain, stone, heaven, manna, leaven

Gold shades, gold watch, exhuast go pop
Living up top, rich kid on the block
Can't be stopped, stop, that's what I thought
Cash in my hand, coins on the ground
Lost and found, hear that sound, clank
Higher rank, I'm the one with the loaded bank
Cha ching big old wing skkrt out the dirt
Mark that ground, mark my spot
I rich, you not
Pull out the lot
Spin the ride and take that drive
Rock that coupe and park and slide
Skrrt, yeah, skrrt
Parked
Get out the car, look at the marks
It ain't that far
Inside the mall, flex what you got
I'll rock this gold until I rot
Pay all cash credit no need
Stay and stash, cash I am free
Muffler delete
Skrrt
Yeah
This cash lead to a ballout
My stash fall to the floor
Making money is what I'm about
Get some more, knock on the door
Buy out the Gucci store
I'm not poor, get that case
Take that **** out, we gonna buy this place
Aye
Mad at me cuz I be flexin
Marriot hotel checked in
Then I get the cash
Rolls and the Jag
I left and now I am back
Yeah Yeah
Gold shades, gold watch, exhuast go pop
Living up top, rich kid on the block
Can't be stopped, stop, that's what I thought
Cash in my hand, coins on the ground
Lost and found, hear that sound, clank
Higher rank, I'm the one with the loaded bank
Cha ching big old wing skkrt out the dirt
Mark that ground, mark my spot
I rich, you not
Pull out the lot
Spin the ride and take that drive
Rock that coupe and park and slide
Skrrt, yeah, skrrt
Parked
Get out the car

Life is a suicide
                    Note.


For when you die,


                Everyone reads

your last words..


My last vocals read by anothet would
            invite

       All those I hate.
Just to tell those greedy **** losers



          "*******, your broke,

#money grabbing mother *******...

Then those I love those I respect would be watching it live,
       Giggling thinking dark sense of
                        Humoured ******....

I love you all, but those hyena *******

      Can choke on my ashes...

If you mined my mind all you would find
are tattoos of you and your fine *** behind

Two pigeons
Resting lip of ATM
Nature's kind tellers.

Imprisoned in
     satin seductions,
     like a jail cell of purity stained.


You were meant
          to be my saviour.

          But you sold me on like cattle..

Spending it to make it?
Now that’s money

Consumable and hoardable
folly’s quest yet necessary evil

How much is enough?
Too little?
Too great?

Does anyone deserve it
can you earn it and be happy
or is it all together absurd?