Chronicles (life and times) by Chris G.

Posted: December 5, 2009 in Poems

The chronicles of the life and times

of a criminal mind,

a convict dwelling on what’s left behind.

Plotting on the future;

dreaming and scheming.

Praying to the angels,

living with my demons.

What gets lost might not be found,

but what goes up must come down.

My eyes are wide, but my hands are tied

as I sit and watch the world go ‘round.

 

If you could only see me sitting on my bunk

as I sit here and write down all this junk.

Cliché’s for days in philosophical ways.

I’ve been praised a genus, but my mind is crazed.

My future sits behind a maze.

and I can’t see it cause I’m blind and dazed.

I’ve been to the bottom and I’ve been to the top.

I’ve been several nights in just one pop

and if I change one thing,

I’d take their advice when they begged me to stop.

Now I live on memories

and prophecies to my enemies,

but what’s not to see is what’s gotten me

through this irony and monotony.

Life is comical, a mystery.

I chronicle the history.

One day I’ll look back at all of this

and remember what it meant to me;

the pictures and the pages and the newspaper articles,

the songs and the poems,

and it’s all just a part of a

collection of the tears through the years

of the life and the times of

me and my peers.

Generally speaking, the specifics are unnecessary.

Primarily the memory

ant the rest becomes secondary.

 

Now I’m having a hard time with this last verse

and I started this back on November first,

but all I got is time to do.

So what’s another line or two?

And trying to do it in this climate too?

It’s like trying to write in some type of zoo!

But that’s the life and times we choose;

look to the sky and find the blues

and I’m finally through now in December.

Ten years from now you won’t remember

if it wasn’t for these chronicles.

the life and times of a repeat offender.

     by Chris G.

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