26 September 2008

Frank


I saw
One of the old punks
I drank and did
Drugs with a long time ago
He was standing
In a door way
Out of the rain
Shivering in his black leather jacket
He did not
Even recognize me
Through his eyes
Of glass and hate, war and nothing at all
I hear he is doing
Alright now
You heard the song before
He was Too Tough To Die, Too Tough To Die

3 comments:

Matt said...

I see folks like that
When I walk around
Sometimes.
My old neighborhoods are
Proving grounds
For humans that I used
To be.

Andraste said...

That was beautiful, man.

I never see any of the old punks I used to run with. Except the one I saw at a Pogues show last year - she could drink more than any of the lads in our crowd, and still does. And she hasn't aged a damn day.

Blankfrank06 said...

Thanks for the excellent poem. I put it on my sidebar for everyone to see. (At the top!) That's me in that
Ramone's song, because I should have been dead years ago.

Hey Jon, it's your turn.