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Oh Johnny,
tell of how you fell into that
Ring of Fire.

Oh Elvis,
tell of how you
Can't Help Falling in Love

Oh Etta,
tell of that love you found
At Last

Oh Marvin,
tell of the time you said
Let's Get It On

Oh Prince,
tell of when you saw
Purple Rain

Oh love,
tell of how you inspired
the hopeless romantic.
love songs are kinda cool
Grey Pryor Dec 2017
So i used to see it in tv
Someone wrapped in the arms of a lover
I never believed it would be me
But i lay here with your hand under my body
Don't tell me I'm too young or too dumb to know i have fallen in love
I want this more than any other one before
I want her until my lips grow sore
I want her until little hands are involved
And long there afterwards
So sing me to sleep with that Johnny Cash song my mom used to love
And hold me when I'm feeling numb
Let me know that you think I'm the one
My dearest loved one.
Neither love nor psychiatry
got tricks or tenacity to transfigure me
into a drug-free butterfly.
If life and the pursuit of liberty
are such good ****, why aren't I enticed
into cold turkey chrysalice?
If I made it past the switchboard, got my minute with Raj Persuad,
I'd say I am more habit than man coz I was ill-starred
- addiction's but one player at tapioca table of my failures,
and I've never changed for the better before.
not old flame phoenix burned his partridge ******* off;
not the prodigal son soon his patriarch's boss;
not the artist formerly known as Vincent Van Frog
obits tongued into  prince of avant-garde old rot;
not the Clark Kent who transpires scion of Krypton,
and when he goes cross-eyed, does his own laser eye-corrections;
not ugly duckling whose **** gets worn to the bone
thru later over-exposure as a midlife crisis swan;
not bad egg that makes good under the yoke of kizmet,
blossoms into KFC bargain bucket innit;
not the kid who's cuffed 'n' cuffed whilst Childline's engaged,
yet still eschews the Cycle of Abuse - it's Satan's baton-change!
So wherefore drug-free butterfly that hatches
en route to a dope-kickin' Damascus?
Daren't unfold a flutter I'd hover even
over lefthand downstroke of the 'u' in 'u-turn'.
No re-entry to mentor here, civic harumpher,
straightandnarroristocrat whose bile is haute catarrh,
pillock of the community!
Coz we crooked men only know the way in crooked miles,
don't deserve jeers from Jesus or Jeremiah Kyle,
or the one they call 'Jerryjerry'.
Now, wings of new leaves, one's potential papilionaceous
is natural high they push at Narcotics Anonymous,
but chemical schlemiels relapse coz losers can't be cured
- ain't snapped my fingers and been less crap before!
not black sheep who scrubs up Baa-barack O-baa-bama
(or even your sentimentalest sweater, knitted by your
                                                           deadest granma);                                    
not this summer's surprise cult hit,
tho' the critics at the preview concurred and had a kip;
not the Strangeways yo-yo who winds up his Folsom blues,
and credits his reformation to the kindness of screws;
no poindexter who in Freshers' week scarce partook,
but fast forward,  four-eyed ***'s Fonzie on Facebook;
not aurum de stercore success-story like the fable
of the goose 'bout to be cooked who lays a golden cable;
not the Chinese Rock star who lives past 27
- Grim Reaper Grammy outrocks rehabby ending.
So wherefore drug-free butterfly's eclosion
into denial or Eden, on wings 12 Steps map-pattern?
But I'm a no-show imago, cobwebbed cocoon,
monged a teenage pod of sloth to postpone more misfortune.
Arcassin B Nov 2016
By Arcassin Burnham (Inspired By Johnny Cash)

I Hurt Myself Today,
Cause Everything's Surreal,

I Use to,
Love the pain,
Ignored the devil's deals,

I get deeper , in the hole,
Seeing what tomorrow brings,
God knows all the rest of your days,
And he remembers everything,

What Have I Become,
My Darkened End,
Everyone I Know , Knows their way,
In the End,
And You Could Have It All,
My self love of worth,
I always let you down,
I Will Make You Hurt,

The Man With His Two Horns,
Has Things He Wants To Share,
Maintain These Old Thoughts,
Don't You Let Him Hear,

An Ode To Father Time,
There's Nothing, Else To Fear,
Fight Battles Somewhere Else,
But I Am Still Right Here,

What Have I Become,
My Darkened End,
Everyone I Know , Knows their way,
In the End,
And You Could Have It All,
My self love of worth,
I always let you down,
I Will Make You Hurt,
If I Could Start Again,
Then Everyone Would Stay,
Times I Saved Myself,
I Won't Die ..Today.

Pauline Morris May 2016
Yep, I watched myself get ****** over, it happen in almost slow motion. Could hear the universe laughing as I sat there for hours and hours. Really quite a few days. Sitting across from a poster where Johnny Cash as giving me the finger. Hows that for the universe screaming *******!!!!!!!
Pauline Morris Apr 2016
Kick me over like a stone again
Stand in judgment of all my sin
Never knowing where I have been

Flip my pages, then tear them out
Never pausing for a single doubt
Defended to my roaring shouts

Take your aim and shoot me down
Make me spiral to the cold hard ground
Souls dying gasp the only sound

Standing over me, take your prize
My bleeding heart in quick demise
Not even once did you agonize

Not once were you concerned
About the leasons I had learned
Thrown in the fire to watch me burn

Your actions were more than brash
Got me feeling lower than Johnny Cash
As under you gaze I turn to ash
Fae Sep 2014
Drip, drip, drip, drip
I hurt myself today
Iridescent tower of clear liquid splashing, sparkling
to see if I still feel
Harmless droplets of the memories that make life so tangible
I focus on the pain
and yet, too much can be fatal, torturous
the only thing that's real
Little moments sharpen into points of ice, drilling into the same wound
the needle tears a hole
Over and over and over until your closed doors and missed calls
the old, familiar sting
ripple through me like a roaring waterfall, I am drowning, I am drowning
try to **** it all away
And you say it's only a leaky faucet, but your silence dripped into my pores
but I remember everything
and I eroded, slipping through my own fingers when I tried to hold on
Italic lyrics credited to Johnny Cash's 'Hurt'

— The End —