SLAVES

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.... We are all slaves
Only in different ways... "

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My Best Trade

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I'm trading sticks of cigarette for a poem Bottles of beer for a few more Whiskeys make me forlorn Why not a few more poems So I scribble and scribble some more I'm trading my loneliness for lines Rhymed or rhymeless, why should I mind When the please the eyes and tickles the mind I sure will memorize and mimic them like a mime So I'm still scribbling on this torn paper of mine I'm trading my hearts pain Trading it for a paper and a pen Like a painter ready to paint I deep my petite paint brush in a bowl of paint Dap dap, little dots, strokes and dashes as I dare to paint Little by little the whole picture is becoming plain I'm trading all love's tears Tears shade in secrecy for a poem shared publicly Though seemingly absurd but poems brings this inconceivable peace. So I'm scribbling and scribbling my way to serenity. I trade it all for a piece of poem I may not have made the point But I've washed clean my plough And starring at ...
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