Cobain Rises

Cobain Rises long poem

Uploaded by Mario Vitale

A poet of the troubled soul
A life on who the devil took his toll
A happy bouncing bundle of joy
Who turned into an angry stepson boy
Dear Boddah, will you be my friend?
And always will until the end?
Ma hates pa and pa hates ma
Everyone’s sad, nobody calls
I don’t know why I like to cry
Where do people go when they die?
I’ve been to church
I’ve been to school
Nobody obeys the golden rule
I can hear you when you laugh
My dear turtle friend
Is on his back
Nobody wants to help him out
All I can do is scream and shout
If empathy is my best gift
I’ll use it wise and hold my lip
But I’m only human
Stuck in a rut
Now I string my guitar with catgut
A generation new to earth
Longs for heaven since their birth
Boys and girls stand in line
To hear Kurt sing, moan, and cry
Why was I born in a world so cruel?
I feel so stupid
Am I a fool?
I went out back one April day
To lay myself in my grave
One last shout out for my best friend
Boddah, will your wisdom lend?
Should I live or should I die?
Or Boddah is your knowledge dry?
One last chance to save my life
I turn on the tube and see Barney Fief
He says that life is one big joke
And all I can do is on a shotgun choke

Some say he was selfish
And selfishness was his final act
He served himself
And his heart was black
But I don’t want to blame Kurt Cobain
I don’t know if I’d do the same
Cause I don’t know what I would do
If I had walked in his shoes
The first time I saw Kurt Cobain
I got up to dance but didn’t get the chance
To tell him I loved him
And to throw down his guns
Now he’s gone
Life goes on
Little darlin’, here comes the sun
As for me I don’t know what happened to Kurt Cobain
Where does he go when it rains?
But I know if he doesn’t have faith on Judgment Day
He will meet with a gloomy fate
For the rest of us
Who live on earth
Who are drafted into this war
By our birth
We must fight on
And throw down our guns
And give our lives to the One
Who died to set the captives free
And if we believe, eternity
This life is war
And not pretend
Come as you are
And get cleansed from sin
Jesus is the only way
We are mere jars of clay
Who need salvation
Free and clean
There is more to life
Than what is seen
I hope to see you there one fine day
Now come to life
And let us pray

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Mario Vitale

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Mario William Vitale is a poet with over 1,000 toward his platform. Vitale was born October 23rd, 1970 in Bristol, Ct. Currently living in Wolcott, Ct where he helps as a care taker for his elderly handicapped mother Ann. Vitale is featured as a writer on Poetrysoup, Writerscafe & Allpoetry. Has a fan base on facebook with over 650 followers. He started writing poems in 1989 after the break up of his first girlfriend as a way to cope with life.
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