Phrembah (a potato-like mystery) (phrembah) wrote,
Phrembah (a potato-like mystery)
phrembah

Love, this is my song!

When’d the song go wrong?
Couldna been that long
I mean we was jus’ singin’ it
Hell, we’s still singin’ it
But it ain’t there n’more
The juice's on the floor
How’d we git thirty years down the road?
Thirty years and never knowed?
We bin singin’ a dried apricot most our lives
Bin singin’ prunes to our children
and raisins to our wives
We got nothin’
And I’d be pissed if I thought there was anythin' ta git
I’d rage agin' the dyin' o' the light,
If it warn't a'ready dark
If there was anything behind that cardboard
'cept death n' dust n' mouse turds,
I’d be pissed, goddammit, that I never got mine!
Tags: broken pencil poetry
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