deepundergroundpoetry.com

Intersection

Too little left in the tank
to make it to Griffith.
So I peddle on the streets of
another forgotten town.

I left my car in an idle backstreet
took my guitar & possessions
and left for the main road
to panhandle the poor.

My family have forgotten me
so I often forget to
encourage myself to succeed
at occassional moments of time.

To my suprise there is
more to be made
in quiet streets with the occassional
passerby; who I suppose is lonely.
Written by Tacete (who-isthe-silence)
Published
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