Jen Juice

Sometimes I write with my right hand
And other times not
Like when I see you hit
The ground nine times running
Pounding with all you got –
You against the world
Cradle the victim sword and ridicule
Rocking back and forth
Please don’t go there no more
Cause you make every situation
An excuse to grope the bottle
Of intention
And the whiskey calls
Like the little boy that you are
Crumbles
In the middle of the broken rubble
When life swells the center
And you fall so deep under
That not even you surrender
can’t climb
The way out this time
I duck when you throw your woes
Buried in my rhymes
Calming my senses and
Running away from your ploy
Hit the bottle one more time
And don’t fall down the stairs
When you wind up so down
And buried in self hate and worry
You –
The tragedy of this beautiful boy…

This entry was posted on August 13, 2010 at 9:00 AM and is filed under Jencerpts.. with tags Mind riot, Poetry, self hate. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.