My Brother is free
Always torn and never content.
Being a regular Joe was not so easy for him.
Whiskey and beer dreams.
Paradise blinded by dreams seen
at the bottom of a empty bottles.
We were raised like Brother’s.
He felt no peace in a normal flow of living.
Addiction of life are many.
Sex, Booze and money can bring us to death gate.
I pray for my Brother in living.
You found some sort of peace in death.
I wish I listen to you more.
I wish I try to understand why the booze
brought peace to your life.
Now I write wasted words.
I will pray you found peace finally.
He told me don’t need to hear your shit.
He asked me are you content?
With your rules and compliant.
You conformed to a system that don’t give
a shit about you.
He drink the whiskey straight.
He offered me a cold beer.
I told him. I know I’m contaminated with B.S.
My mind is diluted with desires and things I don’t need.
But I won’t be condemn to die alone.
Drinking and no-one giving a shit if I’m dead or alive.
He looked at me.
Looking 20 years older then his age.
It is too late to save me my Brother.
The hell-bend highway
When you get on it.
Can’t get off.
16 Sept 2009