Poem: The Good Times Are Over

Trashed beauty queen
Looking all mean
Stuck in a rust-belt wonderland
Is it you instead
Who’s the one who’s gone dead
Is something I’ll never understand
Cling to a hope
That you’ll quit to smoke
And believe that you’ll be all better than
The rest of the jerks
In button-down shirts
And pass them all over for a better man
Your suit of armor
Deflects all the charmers
But it’s rented and rusty outside
It weighs you down
Like your face in a frown
And your defences you no longer hide
I might be gray
Like it is every day
But I can still find a light
When the party is done
And where is everyone
You’ll keep up at it all night
Your words and dreams
They just don’t mean
A thing to me when you’re alone
While you’d rather stay
I will make my own way
Because I’d much rather be at home

© 2014 James Takeo

©2014 James Takeo

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