
Walking the streets feels lonely since I’ve been doing it to pay rent,
So many strange faces and worn out places, so many mixed messages sent.
The blood doesn’t ache – but the heart breaking for my wasted youth stings.
It’s been a while since I’ve stopped running or held a pair of kings.
Shadows over my shoulder building up in an unholy, black avalanche,
Yet everyone’s convincing me – look back, it’s a dove holding an olive branch.
No friends out there left to betray, but my loyalties don’t lie in the past.
Only so many bites to take out of me, I wonder –
Who will be the very last?
-JW