Heriberto GarciaIII


Junk Yard


I sit alone and stoned,
Stoned as the night alone,
Wondering of who’s alone,
I’m alone.
Cold and very bold,
I lye in bed stones,
Stoned as rock,
Then I reach my angel of love.
I see a star above,
To reach I cannot see,
To bright is she,
Never to reach her; peak
I crawl and crawl,
To bleed beneath my knees,
I feel pain and shame,
For guilt is my gain.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
You laugh and play,
A freak I must say.
Alone I must play.
I walk up and down,
Confused my destiny numb,
My journey is my rejection,
My darkness is my obsession.

I sit alone and drunk,
Just thing of my life,
How it came and is coming.
I and again walking junk….alone

Submitted: Friday, February 18, 2005
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  • Herbert Nehrlich1 (2/19/2005 12:27:00 AM)

    Even being stoned doesn't seem to help with your work.
    Perhaps a bigger dose? It's a self chosen destiny for some.
    H (Report) Reply

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