Saturday Night

[Steel City Slim]

I wrote this poem during a fucked up time in my life. I was drinking too much, smoking too much dope, I was having an afair with a married woman. I was a mess, and my life was a mess.

Saturday Night

The winter's cold
And the hawk is flyin'
And lies are bein' told
And soon someone'll be cryin'
But no one cares
It's just a personal tradgedy
Back door Johnny's runnin' scared
And it's lonely on the street
Find a doorway to huddle in
Protect you from the night
Ain't no way you'll ever win
But still you gotta fight
Give the man a nickle
Get yourself real stoned
But life is often fickle
And you always wake up alone

[pinerow]

1. I am reminded of a very cold winter...

nt

[KaliTracy]

2. there is a lot here in these words -- much that can be

felt, much that makes the reader wonder.

thanks for sharing it.

[JitterbugPerfume]

3. that kind of desolation

has to be experienced to be understood

yes it does

[Steel City Slim]

4. I Hope

you were never there.