Friday, June 10, 2011


i miss those days
of dirty ashtrays
and shots and beers
with wild buffoons
in sordid rooms
with bordello decor
and so much more
that stirred my soul
with words so bold
all locked inside
but they could not hide
and a sober mind
ergo, did find
a way to express
and get off my chest
these tales of woe
and now you know
of ashtray days
and a wildman's ways
for it was good
all wild in my "hood"
when i'm livin' straight
the words don't rate
so i dig deep
and am forced to repeat
my memories of the dark
i must impart
the hustle and flow
of down below
the grime and the dirt
is a better flirt
then the mundane life
so i write down low
that's where i go
to the ashtray days
these were my ways.

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