Too Done to Dream
I am you - the underbelly of your pride
by-passers dare not look me in the eye
avert their eyes - too rich and wise, they chide
they spare their change then quickly walk on by
once I was you, a squeaky-clean nonesuch
from Saville-Row these tailored clothes I wear
now soiled with grit and grime – they reek so much
sleep here and there – I really don’t care where
the piper took my wife, my home, my friends
I am the shit I once scraped from my shoes
pride’s so short-lived but shame just never ends
the only dream I’ve left is in this booze
so, Salut, my former self – be on your way
defrayed, my end, for one more fucking day








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I have known your writing to be good but cannot remember being affected this deep within