I don't like the numbness in my brain I don't like the poverty in my name Destiny was never here And I could never tell where
No vibe to guide no wave to ride No choice but to collide with pain And the sound that's mine to cry It always sounded the same
From a poor boy to a poor man In a poor land where the wind carried me like the sand And between a rock a hard place is where I got caught With no luck and nothing to add up pull on the reins and call it naught
After plowing ground I can turn around and see that very little grew And the only change my hair is less my hair is gray my chances left are few So write it down write it right write it wrong write a song Just another dream another chance to sing another day has come and gone
Eyelook4u, sad poem. Life goes by and some are fortunate to see in the mirror grown gray hair popping up. Can you imagine how many left this world so young??? This is to cheer you up my dear poet: This man named John was a very hard worker all his life and He was just waiting to retire. He wanted to pamper himself with all the leisure time coming soon... He didn't realize he really was going to pamper himself with the real pampers..... Hope this joke put a smile on your face... SM
Comments (2)
This is to cheer you up my dear poet:
This man named John was a very hard worker all his life and He was just waiting to retire. He wanted to pamper himself with all the leisure time coming soon...
He didn't realize he really was going to pamper himself with the real pampers.....
Hope this joke put a smile on your face... SM