The days of our lives, in which we lived so hopelessly. Dear God, I gave it all I got. When will the devil stop choking me? Before I reeked of sin, they never noticed me. The days of our lives, When chaos kept me content. Animosity flowed through the air as if it Came through the vents. He recognized the twisted intentions of a weak mind. I tap danced with Lucifer, while on several occasions making love to the life of crime. The Days of our lives. Her heart is still drenched with regret. I’m still a slave to the money, but I’ve learned no amount of gin can wash away the stress. The days of our lives. There was a time when I didn’t know roses came with thorns. As if the highway to success did not have many storms. The days of our lives When a torn heart felt just fine.
Lost delights of mine, leave me not in unknown ways And all of our dandled days in my fortune’s hand Winder cold wails the wrong of death delays When cold wind blows into my desert sands She has turned within
Absent deliberate intervention vis a vis suicide, supposed “natural” longevity of generic human primate ride ding bareback across avast broke back mountain minus pride defies accurate prediction, though hypothetical projections can override unknown factors, whereby excluding misfortune nationwide (and/or globally
A dream what is that exactly, a reason to live, love, laugh, follow your heart. His heart, her heart, your heart, my heart, their hearts even our own hearts, from that first newborn smack on our baby bottoms, to wail
Blood was in season, on your hands. A staged encounter mauling the clouds. Into a hare, you put the lead with a roar of gun and sun wants his share. Beneath the honours lies the guilt of a ravaged moon.
I write this poem for my life, My love Which can never be mine She walks in style and her smile is fine But I know she will never be mine I stand alone in the rain Everytime I feel
Photo by -= Bruce Berrien =- 
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