My life is not a page
full of pretty poetry
more like fire of rage
Hiroshima imagery
molten hearts boiled tears
flowers were never grown
countless wasted years
lives were never known.

I will write my first song
play guitar chords along
sing it to myself with beer
in fogged bathroom mirror.

Pristine saints threaten
fingers crossed again
scout's honor weapon
slingshot to the shin.

I've lost 3 wedding rings
frantic looking for last one.
Love is chains lost things.
Wars fought hope we won.
Loveless marriage thorn
so bored with repetition
routine is just forlorn
slaves to tradition.

Keep the killer afloat above
targets through black flack
avoid the deadly white dove
promises never going back.

A carny biography
of ******* photography
married Aunt Glenny
his shiny lucky penny
beauty thin as a rail
hard as a track nail.