Three Chances Shot to Hell
A year and six months of hard work laid to waste,
by words that were spoken for me,
by people i never knew,
by fools i wouldn't even trust to hold my drink.

I never minded people being upset with me,
back when i was at fault and she was at ease,
but i finally did what i said i would,
finally kicked the liquor and the smoky haze
that followed my lips wherever i wandered.
And still people live in the past,
Still they don't want to believe,
that an aged man barely stands before them,
barely clean and barely hardened.
clean enough to see the doubt in their eyes,
but not hardened enough to blow it off.

Sometimes people like to hunt deer with BB guns,
or wax a truck that was built with rust.
I would rather hunt for light,
and polish the truth as i imagine it,
because its not like it was ever truly found.

I gave this my all,
then I watched it all smolder into coals
of rock and ash, like a cheap slut on the corner
on any given saturday.
Last edited by bluesybilly at Oct 8, 2008,
i relate to this more than you could ever possibly concieve.
stanza #3, you should omit from this piece, and hide it somewhere and hope to God that no one steals it or copies it from you because that would just be disastrous.

go forth, and write.
but never forget how to live your own life.
There's a road that leads to the end of all suffering. You should take it.

- Jericho Caine

secret, aaaaagent maaan.
secret, aaaaagent maaan.