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by Jersey D Gibson

Very well meaning, yet totally oblivious,
functions change on the long time-line.
You can escape the lime-light, but not the slime-line,
for pockets of change given away to beggers.

Ruled by hypocracy, led by polls,
figures figuratively figured me out.
Point your arrows and dollar signss away,
I'll willing give away what I'll never sell out.

but I'm stuck on you
holding your hand holding you back.
leeching away your life your soul and everything...
I want you to get me through.


Drama's a queen, a trussed-up whore,
like lingering doubts settled on debts.
Sticky fly paper we can't get off our souls,
magnets on fridges with bad sayings.

Green is mean yet greed is better,
line the pockets full of false hopes.
Your eyes lie, and your soul is choking,
bloody noses from face-plant fallings.

but I'm right next to you
I've got your back with my knife in it.
bleeding you dry while taking all the profits...
stand on your shoulders to put you down.

07/14/2007

Posted on 07/13/2007
Copyright © 2024 Jersey D Gibson

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