deepundergroundpoetry.com
Life Is What It Seems
Outside in the piss stained hall,
A prostitute leans on a dirty wall.
Inside I rest my head,
On a dirty mattress I call a bed.
Dirty clothes out to the door,
Empty bottles on the floor.
In the streets a car honks it's horn,
Down the hall a baby is born.
In the bar people drown their sorrow,
Got no hope for tomorrow.
Rain coming down from the sky,
Falling hard , like the tears I cry.
I had dreams once, like the rest,
Worked real hard, did my best.
Been so long, I forgot those dreams,
Sometimes life is what it seems.
My friends are the people of the streets,
Hustling hard for their daily eats.
Most people walk and pass us by,
Never stop to wonder why.
Living breathing human beings,
Sometimes life is what it seems.
2009.
A prostitute leans on a dirty wall.
Inside I rest my head,
On a dirty mattress I call a bed.
Dirty clothes out to the door,
Empty bottles on the floor.
In the streets a car honks it's horn,
Down the hall a baby is born.
In the bar people drown their sorrow,
Got no hope for tomorrow.
Rain coming down from the sky,
Falling hard , like the tears I cry.
I had dreams once, like the rest,
Worked real hard, did my best.
Been so long, I forgot those dreams,
Sometimes life is what it seems.
My friends are the people of the streets,
Hustling hard for their daily eats.
Most people walk and pass us by,
Never stop to wonder why.
Living breathing human beings,
Sometimes life is what it seems.
2009.
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