Why am I, the way
I am judged to be today?
Where were these questions
In my younger days?
When I was a child
In a chamber of horror
Always hungry and running away
Was it really that bad?
Some would say
I remember self healing
Fractures and bruises
Decorating my face
How did I stay so trim?
Try starving,
Or should I say, being starved
My guradians
I won't even call them, parents
Unemployed, homeless
Surviving in the streets
Squatting here and there
Seeking shelter anywhere
Blaming me for all
I was just a piece
Of unwanted luggage
Now here I am
Not wandering in the halls
You see I am
Like Father Like son
Crime breeds crime
In this cell
You'll find me doing my time.
I must agree wholeheartedly with Robert's review..."powerfully honest and self reflective...bravo!" Sometimes in our darkest hours honesty from within ourselves and the time we take to reflect is the most powerful inspiration toward a better future we could ever get! Excellant!!!!
((((Hugs))))
~Nikki~
Reviewed by Tony Nerone (Reader)
Reviewed on May 9, 2003
Hey William, Sorry for the late review of this outstanding write!
A chilling piece William, excellently done.
Chrissie
Reviewed by William M. Sowman
Reviewed on May 9, 2003
William very well presented. How well I can relate to this. I remember that the last thing I wanted to be like was my Father. Then grew up to be like him. Who can figure how this happened. Bill
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
Outstanding as always...
Trixie :)
((((Hugs))))
~Nikki~
tony
All the best Sage
ty
pax
Chrissie