Personal
I sit and write of my thoughts in a rhyme
I write of the good and I write of the bad
Of times once happy and of others quite sad
Of the boy I once was with my little boy dreams
Shattered and broken by evil mens schemes
I write of my Mom and also my Dad
Of their sorrow and hurt to see me turn bad
I write of things of times and also of zen
Of blood and guts and of very bad men
I write of people and things and of all I feel
Of my crazy life so bizzare so unreal
Of girls and women both good and bad
Of angels and devils the sane and the mad
Of sailing on the lake with my daughter in the park
Of singing laughing playing till the coming of dark
I write of the bottle and how it feels to lose
The love of my life my little girl for booze
Of the sadness of so many lives wrecked by drink
Of laying in the gutter 'midst the vomit and stink
Of places I'v been and of things I'v seen
And of guns and girls and young mens dreams
I write of the girls that I held so dear
Of my happyness and laughter and my gut wrenching fear
Of my prison flight and the ladies of the night
Teaching me slow dance in the warm dark night
Of mountains and deserts and forests so green
Of solitude and wonder in all I have seen
Of nomadic days upon the open road
Of romantic nights 'neath a full moon glow
Tho' I write with my pen of some very bad men
I also see good now I'm closer to zen
And midst all the the clutter of these crumpled reams
I glimpse a path wending to poetic dreams
Now when I feel sad and on my mind things do dwell
I think well Im not too bad for a kid raised in hell
Brendan
Poetry by Brendan Finbarr Tully
Read 636 times
Written on 2005-10-27 at 13:54
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Some time in rhyme
When I feel good or bad and have some spare timeI sit and write of my thoughts in a rhyme
I write of the good and I write of the bad
Of times once happy and of others quite sad
Of the boy I once was with my little boy dreams
Shattered and broken by evil mens schemes
I write of my Mom and also my Dad
Of their sorrow and hurt to see me turn bad
I write of things of times and also of zen
Of blood and guts and of very bad men
I write of people and things and of all I feel
Of my crazy life so bizzare so unreal
Of girls and women both good and bad
Of angels and devils the sane and the mad
Of sailing on the lake with my daughter in the park
Of singing laughing playing till the coming of dark
I write of the bottle and how it feels to lose
The love of my life my little girl for booze
Of the sadness of so many lives wrecked by drink
Of laying in the gutter 'midst the vomit and stink
Of places I'v been and of things I'v seen
And of guns and girls and young mens dreams
I write of the girls that I held so dear
Of my happyness and laughter and my gut wrenching fear
Of my prison flight and the ladies of the night
Teaching me slow dance in the warm dark night
Of mountains and deserts and forests so green
Of solitude and wonder in all I have seen
Of nomadic days upon the open road
Of romantic nights 'neath a full moon glow
Tho' I write with my pen of some very bad men
I also see good now I'm closer to zen
And midst all the the clutter of these crumpled reams
I glimpse a path wending to poetic dreams
Now when I feel sad and on my mind things do dwell
I think well Im not too bad for a kid raised in hell
Brendan
Poetry by Brendan Finbarr Tully
Read 636 times
Written on 2005-10-27 at 13:54
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Teala |
