deepundergroundpoetry.com

When are you coming back?

I sat on the wall
with a few beers inside of me
watching the back of the driver's head
and the two faces outside the car
as their music got my hands twitching
yet I stayed right there

They say that most men
will get to their death beds
never knowing whether or not
they possess cowardice.
I have it deep within me.

For all the weights I've been lifting,
sparring and ground fighting
I still feel my legs give a little
when I know the choice is there.

I stand back and wait;
praying to something or other
that the dreams
during which the knockout blow
leaves them laughing
are only dreams.

I'll look my loved one in the eyes
and tell her that it's best to be analytical,
but I admire her balls.
In a situation,
she'll make the decision for me
and then I'll have to put the training to the test.

Fuck it; at the end of the day
when you struggle through to the end
of each month
see no career path
forget that it's even possible to own your own house
what's so bad about a trip to A&E
with a broken jaw?

It's an easy way
to taste life,
but try remembering that
when you're sat on a wall
with a few beers inside
watching three men
doing the drug exchange
at 135 decibels.
Written by CruelHandedWriter (Jamie Rhodes)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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