PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Black and white memories
Cause that’s what I was raised on
The sugar cane fields and driving trucks
Cohiba cigars was the cool thing to be on

I’m at the end of the road
Roaming back and forth
The days are endless, can’t seem to be pretending
I need a purpose…

My hands are wrinkled and my voice is rough
Years and years have taken a toll
I raised all my kids, they’re all grown
Now I’m invisible among these walls

Let me tell you, don’t you grow old
I’ll share my story with you, you share your love
Cause when your years grow long
Walking around dolt won’t be cool anymore

Black and white memories
Cause that’s what I was raised on
The sugar cane fields and driving trucks
Cohiba cigars was the cool thing to be on

My stories are without time and are weary
The music to my life has left for a long time
Now I’m the child which they think they need to bribe
Look at my gray hairs they show my life