Broke, chased, hungry... |
WHAT WAS FATE THINKING? It was unlike any other day I had ever known My pockets are empty, all my money I had blown And now here I am, walking down this abandoned highway Looking around me, just looking; begging for a place to stay The night before I watched everything of mine disappear Then there I was, everything good gone, just left with fear It all feels like a passing moment I cannot explain I even wonder if through it all I was still kept sane Gone I was when the money couldn’t pay for my room Mad was Ray when I chickened out of selling all the shroom That morning was the worst; I’m still not convinced yet That I had dodged all the lead after losing his bet I ran, I walked, I crawled to a station down the stretch What little good that will do you when you’re a beaten wretch Still I kicked the awful box just for a lousy take at hunger Till the pumper went to kick my ass, I think his nametag was Roger Little of nothing is crystal clear in my long since tired brain Sometimes I even skip the part of being stowaway on the noon train It took me farther that I thought a crazy day could bring you But waking up I realized what stabbing pain could really do It was one darkness that I wandered, how far I couldn’t tell But now on this day, for hope of escape, I think my soul I’d sell So here we are, this highway and myself, paired so very nice I guess for all my sins I’m learning that there really is a price -poet Darká |