PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

on the highway to hell singing the blues staying true to the

word that I solemnly speak of-

a slap in the face with the truth; practice more what we preach. madman took my dreams away now i'm a sadman..

sandman laughters at my disaster. traveling for years, fighting nightmares conquering fears..hardly shed tears for

lost peers even my family..

I'm starting to believe that i'm the fool here..

fame i will never have, maybe the lord didn't intend nothing for me. just another wonderer trying to find direction home.

aloud the dark to conceive in me now my heart to hard to bleed.

seed of a demon was planted in mother, nine months later, a nine and half pounder, twenty-two inch lizard.

kissed death for the first time at age four..

second floor fall said to have been a miracle, it seemed like a

dream to me...

Continue to dream the only hope I have to go to heaven, if seven is the lucky number well i was born on the july/77,on the

twentieth. the earliest records of crime you find can them at thirteen.. adolocent with any idea my life will become a turmoil of lost memories in reality everthing still haunts me..

If it wasn't for the love of poetry and a drop of love that still lingers, i would probably be a wanted criminal, a serial killer, the new thriller on the block.

no zodiac signs or lurking thru' bushes.

kick your fucken door down, night vision easy to find you,

believe no sound from the silencers of the barrels from the guns that dispense our retaliation. words are my meditation,

comfort when i sleep thats even if i sleep. in dreams wishes come true in reality dreams are wished-

BLUES traveler with the microphone setting every stage he stands on fire, maintain a wire composure, i'll reassure you

theres no delay won't hesitate to admininster the rules of the

Mayan shoulin', lunatic howlin' at the moon, soon it won't shine anymore.

So explore i go. new lands, bad lands, new faces, similar places inbetween woods and mountains. wheater obscured like the thoughts that blind me. delay my opening speech at graduation, runnin' late, fate fades into the dark like the fog at nite.

I'm playing the pipers fiddle along the highway to hell,

blues traveling, unraveling channels.

Lost the purpose...what's the cause now?

nothing simply nothing only sadness that composes this travelers BLUES..