Write Out Loud

I was laying down in my room, playing on my phone when I received a message from a new Facebook friend. It was a poem.

I love poetry and lyrics because not only does it bare the soul of the writer, it has the ability to give the reader a voice to how they feel as well.

I love the poem so much that I decided to ask the writers permission to feature it on my blog, and he said yes. I think it needs to shared.


Poem by Brooks

Small town grew into a big hell
Feel like Jonah in the belly of his big whale
I do wish it’d vomit me out like it did him
But there’s no way out when you get in

Can’t stop the swamp is full of dope dreamers
Can’t Stop on the leper with the most fingers

So much pain in the this world of mine
God giving us earth was like pearls to swine
Tne Two-tone wolves are out for blood
They got a poor bastard cornered and he’s out of luck

Can’t stop take the trail to the train tracks
Can’t stop keep my eyes on the stained glass

Saw an old friend standing on a corner
Since I seen him last he looks like a decade older
Talking like a crystal meth machine gun
City had salvation in a spoon if I needed some

Can’t stop all I got are well-wishes
Can’t stop going to fix up these burnt Bridges

Made a wrong turn on a wrong Street Demons dressed as Saints with Halos made of concrete
In the Lions Den every turn is a dead end
Filled with the Flesh and Bones of dead Friends

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