I remember that I wrote this poem for my Lit class shortly after my grandfather died, and I was listening to a lot of Johnny Cash. A theme of 'coping with loneliness' begins here.
what strength do i have that i should hope?
should stop the coffee and cocaine from tyin’ me a rope
and the next best thing to Novocain
is the lonely cowboy music of my grandfather's days
as sure as i sit in solitude
the banjo picks a rhythm that giddies up my blues
while guitar strings sing me slow to sleep
my blanket of black becomes a safe cave of dreams
is it okay if i sleep on your cold ceramic floor?
my mothers arms don’t bring me the right comfort anymore
i start to feel the storm outside as it grows loud
and for the moment i’m fine and i forget about the crowd
some call it lonely this pinch in my chest
but i blame it on drugs and and my severe lack of rest
i don’t have to fake optimism today
‘cause lets face it i feel better when the skies outside are gray
dark thoughts drown in the rivers of the tears of my veins
and the eggshells that once cut my feet now float and drift away
so damn this world for telling me that i need things and stuff
i’ve come to find that i as one am company enough
