I was born, not yesterday
when snow fall on the pavement lay
with phones of glass and stainless steel
plastic cards swiped on winter’s day
I was born, not long ago,
when no structures held the winter snow
no gargoyles watched the people feel
their feelings on sidewalks below
I was born, just minutes late,
to join the refugees in freight,
huddled close, slick like eels,
and carrying burdens intimate.
I was born, in freezing cold,
in clothing sparse and linen old,
with inability to feel,
with story short and yet untold.
In short, I lived, an unsettled life,
of distant joy and constant strife,
lived for others, on repeat
no adoring children, loving wife.
In short, I spent my living time,
in parting ways with broken rhyme,
making deals, so indiscreet
pandering those I meet.
Incapable of opinions bold,
no strength or honour to uphold,
indefensible and meek,
built of clay, not ironhold.
In short I was incarcerated soon,
deviant, not of silver spoon,
misfit both within and out,
within and out, bringing ruin.
In short, my fellows I betrayed
my love was short, she did not stay,
for who can love a coward, fleet
she came and quickly went her way.
In short to drown my sorrows deep,
I picked a fight, I lost not sleep,
in choosing one who’d beat me blue,
for I deserved the blows he heaped.
In short I died, one final gasp,
my freedom ‘ere within my grasp,
no last words, no final meal,
no deviation from the deal.
I wish I had an alibi
A place to be, that was no lie,
Somewhere I was wanted so,
A place to go, before I died.
I wish, for you, to heed my tale
while you are hearty, while you are hale,
stand by your words, stand for what’s right,
be not a salesman, making sale.
I wish, for you, my children hence,
drop all your pretentious pretence,
wander not in search of gold,
or trade your pounds in vain for pence.