there is no truth at seventeen
seen needles and the damage done
seen fire seen rain seen cocaine brain
seen wounded veins and straight white lanes
snowblinded Sister Morpine’s pain
sent bad moon nigh on eight miles high
while Lucy’s diamonds lit the sky
and smoked the water’s purple haze
another sun goes down on me
I fight through those white satin nights
cry help – what kind of fool am I?
a clown with tears, gravedancer fears
I carry my load in remorse code
and seventeen feels old-song old

beauty girl cry

41 thoughts on “Crossroads

    • You will already know Iris that certain themes can put us in a groove where the pen just runs away and we merely follow. I thank you very much for this appraisal and support.

    • Thanks DVH, there was a relative innocence about drugs back then that contrasts with the scene today – it was about music, sex and fun, not chemically synthesised poison.

    • Thank you for these lovely animated words LT – you’ve also zeroed in on the high emotional contrast that I was trying to achieve with this piece. I appreciate your taking the time to read, reflect and respond – Mike

    • What’s powerful Angela is the extent of your appreciation for this little piece – it’s words like these that put me in the mood to pick up the pen and go at it again. I thank you.

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