At the bottom of this garbage can
Tasting the gutter isn't something
I planned, just happened
Over many a year
A state of mind not easily tossed aside
One more ride through the insanity
And not knowing the outcome
Bullshit you say, more lies and allibis
Yet I'm heading toward oblivion
If I don't pray.

These bones ache
And my soul mourns
For replenishment besides
The devil's prescription
Liquid concoction
that some scum bag
Created in a crack house next door
Deep down, there's a way out
But half measures promise nothing
Except captivity or death
Blissful options, sense of sarcasm
Have left me but the will to live
Is another story that I hope
You perfectly sculpt
In your hands...

There it goes-there I go
Like a zombie mumbling
Down a one track sensation
Searching for the lost elation
Like it's some ancient relic
History only proves I'll be
A number permutated...

Oh, Lord let me rest this head
If I haven't hit bottom yet
Then please release me from your grip
And make it quick because
The food is rotten
Milk is spoiled
Wait, just a bit more
I just found a stem
And a ten piece burrowed within
Never mind, I'll be on my way
If we meet again...

P-May 8, 2008.