Before the dawn i find the bottle
drinking down my last swallow
i watch the blackness
slowly turn to gray.

The rising sun thru cracks in walls
and doors and boarded windows
sketch long bright slender fingers
across my bed of tumbled hay.

The only home i know is freedom
so i must go and find a reason
to be alive and keep on living
through another long long day.

06/21/2004

Posted on 06/21/2004
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