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  You are @ HomeAdults Poetry


Source: Adults

Author: Barry Gee

Title: Rough Side.

The rats ran around on rough side but they were the human kind

By day they slept uncertain sleep, at night they fooled the blind

Reality, their enemy, the bottle was their friend

Living on hope and charity and all providence could send.

He was dragged up on rough side where a curse is nothing worth

It's just the common currency you inherit with your birth

And hopeless, numb frustration was usual everyday

Everyone accepted it as the price you had to pay.

Too sensitive and gentle to wheel and deal his way

Music was his main release in a world where might held sway

He crept across to smooth side, on the soft side of the tracks

Where mothers practice suicide and fill the holes with cracks.

She was raised to be a princess, he was born to be a thief

They met one night at Maxie's where they went for some relief

In the coloured heat she looked at him, he could feel her burning stare

On shaking legs he walked to her through the clinging neon air.

They sat down at a table that was vacant near the door

The words they spoke were meaningless, the silence meant much more

His heart beat madly through his chest, she was breathing soft and slow

Her hand reached out to cloak his own as the night-time covers snow.

An hour passed or maybe more they were not counting time

But others noticed and they saw this wordless pantomime

The table was surrounded and angry words were spoke

He was told to go before the show became more than a joke.

Out of time and out of place, he had no just defence

He was caught and captured on the wrong side of the fence

The pounding of the music matched the beating of his brain

As ice-cold chills and mortal fear flowed freely through his veins.

He looked at her, she looked at him, he didn't know what to do

He was as caged and lonely as an animal in the zoo

He felt the empty bottle like a statement in his hand

And raised himself to make a point he didn't understand.

An angry answer struck him down as he was halfway to his feet

He felt his confidence cave in and already felt defeat

He could feel her eyes upon him, indifferent and cold

It's just the price you have to pay for getting far too bold.

He crept back down to rough side and licked his aching wounds

He slept that night on broken springs while hearing shattered tunes

He dreamt of blood and sweet revenge and woke up far too soon

And cursed his hopeless destiny beneath a waning moon.

Published on writebuzz®: Adults > Poetry

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