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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Experience · #809869
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
© Copyright 2004 DMB Secundus (kornkidxxix at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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