Home by Chris G.

Posted: June 13, 2008 in Poems
 
Before you go home lots of plans are made,
but they’re blown away like a box of hand grenades.
You try but it’s hard to start things over
when there’s always somebody looking over your shoulder.
Set up for failure, a revolving door;
don’t know why you even got out for.
A little vacation then it’s back to the pen.
You see the same old faces all coming back again.
 
Try to get a real job. Ha! That’s funny.
They wantcha breakin’ your back for almost no money.
That’s why it’s back to the game, got to get it from the dirt.
That’s why I ain’t lookin’ for no job, but I’m lookin’ for work.
And hell, I can’t even find a place to call home.
Apartment complexes say leave them alone;
and what’s the world coming to? What’s goin’ down
when the trailerpark don’t even want me around?
 
All I need is a reason and I’m back on the juices.
It’s like excuses – excuses lead to substance abuses.
It’s a no-win situation and I’m caught in the mix,
a systematic failure that they cannot fix.
So back up the bus and get on.
Where you been?  What took so long?
Man, it’s good to see ya.  Welcome back.
Welcome home.
    by Chris G.

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