Hollywood Nights
It was a night to remember if only i could,
As the sun began to rise on the surface of Hollywood’s homeless youth,
We awoke slowly swaggering to our feet, Coming down from our weekend high,
Struggling to grasp onto the reality that there is a long week ahead of us,
More Surviving than living,
Sniffling and coughing,
Cold and hungry,
Getting by from one high to the next,
Cocaine was a dream come true when you had to spend most nights walking,
Aimlessly driven to find a warm spot to rest for a few hours,
Relaxation was impossible,
There were many fights over squats,
Most of us went to jail on a regular basis stealing canned food,
Caught drunk in public,
Some of the more desperate nubile souls,
Sold there bodies,
Sold their integrity for the pooky pipe,
Most of us won’t make it out alive,
But for some reason now that I’m finally established,
I feel trapped and desperate to back to my life of nothing,
Now that I’m here,
Living and doing well for myself,
It feels wrong,
Like I don’t belong,
I’m stuck wondering how homeless felt like home,
Restless and struggling,
than i realize maybe its because when i was homeless,
I wasn’t trying to be someone i wasn’t,
I wasn’t surviving like i thought i was,
I was just living the life i was meant to live,
I wasn’t miserable,
I may have been hungry but never miserable,
I was free to be who i was meant to be,
But now that I’m surviving I’m struggling to be someone I’m not,
I’m miserable as fuck,
I don’t agree with this way of living
This mainstream by the books crap,
I miss those nights in Hollywood,
The fights,
The drugs,
The women, alcohol, and random occurrences of luck,
I miss living. . . . .
(2010)
They say poetry comes from the heart, it is a compilation of thoughts that we write down so we don't forget them; and if other people happen to read it and are able to take something from it, than wa-lah your a fucking poet. Is this life fucking grand or what??
