FROM THE HEART OF A BROOKLYN SLUM

This poem is dedicated to 4 of the most sensitive poets on this site, whom I consider my best 'unseen' friends, Gloria Glostarg, Caitlin 'Californication', Amanda 'The Angel of music' and Moon. Dear friends, please pray for these wretched souls, like the one mentioned below who are forced into crime because of poverty. P.S; - "It's good to be back again" WILL THERE BE SOMEONE TO CRY ON THE DAY THAT I DIE? OR WILL IT BE SPITTLE ON MY GRAVE AND BLACK CLOUDS IN THE SKY? I'VE NEVER BEEN LOVED ALWAYS FELT UNWANTED BY BAD DREAMS AND FEAR I'VE ALWAYS BEEN HAUNTED NO ONE TO SHARE WITH, THE DARK THOUGHTS IN MY HEAD NO SWEETHEART TO HOLD TIGHT NO WARM COZY BED I LIVE IN A DRAINPIPE AND EAT RATS FOR LUNCH MAYBE DOG MEAT FOR DINNER AND FISH BONES FOR BRUNCH IF YOU GIMME A BREAK I MIGHT TURN OUT RIGHT ELSE I MAY SLIT YOUR THROAT ON A COLD MOONLIT NIGHT CHUCK SHORTER