You Ain'T Finished Yet Poem by Patrick O'Reilly

I heard your story now,
I know how you got down and out
And after all, we’re just two poor country kids
In foreign lands,
A dirty, swaggering, city in the dark.

Jesus, Mary, how did we get this way?
You, in the bathroom with a line,
Me, dead on the hospital bed with the tubes.
We were such sweet kids.

But smile, kid, smile
You got a bed tonight
And home is always there,
Friendly or not.

I wish I could tell you
That I love you
But all I can offer you is another drag.

The world will be there in the morning
Burden that it is,
And you ain’t finished yet.