The Man From the Past

Artisan 3

Purchase Print $20

The Man From the Past

I sat amongst a crowd

Of heavy smoking people

In the basement of a church

Beneath the heavy steeple

Telling jokes that were not funny

And asking me for money

It was there that I first saw him

Beneath the lowly shade

He wanted once to kill me

And bury me for dead

And now it’s he that haunts me

Deeply in my head

He saw and recognized me

In the shadow he remained 

We did not speak a word

Or say each other’s names

I turned and ran so quickly

I fiercely ran away

From the man who wants to kill me

From the man who holds my grave 

And so it was my past returned

And gently I escaped

From the man from the past

As I now walk away

Walking

Artisan 2 etsy

Purchase Print for $20

Walking

Walking walking walking

As I must go on

Hammering the pavement

Pounding on the ground

As the cement hits my feet

Walking down the street 

From the home I left behind

To the house I’ll find

From lovers family and past friends

To start up once again 

Where is this road that leads me

Wherever shall I be

I must just keep on walking

Until the day I’m free

It is then the day will greet me

I’ll find the kingdom come

Till then I’ll just keep walking

Walking till I’m done

You Once Was a Big Shot

Artisan 1

Purchase Print for $15.00

 

You Was Once a Big Shot

You was once a big shot

For everyone to know

A singing actor on tv

And on the radio

You’d flash your money all around

In everyone’s face like so

And all the women gathered round

Everywhere you’d go

Your cars the finest motors

Your clothes all tailored fit

You laughed at all the others

You thought you were the shit

You boasted into politics

and the celebrity gossip paper

You let no poor man near you

High on your skyscraper

But then the show it had to end

And you weren’t really needed

It’s time to say goodbye my friend

Your showtime has exceeded

You lost the house you lost the car

Your shallow friends are gone

We all know just who your are

When the time has come

No you don’t look so happy

In your now impoverished way

Every pigment has it’s color

Every dog has his day

 

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