Saturday, April 24, 2010

.. Sad Story .. April 3

a man i do see
stuck to a curb
drunken wit funk
his words are absurd
from the bricks to the burbs
he's flinchin in nerves
a rootless existence
like a war vet
shootin his lipids
not a mention to turn
his life over for help
not a venture to earn
even a dollar
or a straightness of walk
no patience but smart
wit a paint brush
graceful with art
yet no aim to a spark
not white dusts
however ever it's
cain in his heart
spend most of his days
hope for the grave
in anguish and parched
lame from the start
in his childhood
fame was the part
he wanted to play
but the boy
went unsaved in the dark
pops raped him
killed his mom brutal
maine and depart
left as an orphan
scarred for ever
in sexual extortion
and divorced the goodness
since revenge was a loss
father oded few years later
when he banged on the snort
he been all in court
for the money stolen
raped in jail
like the day he was twelves years old and
he's only 32
not much more old than you
lived it bad more he
has something like a sad story.

Faisal Jama
Copyright © 2010

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