Grungy People

Their wretched journeys with depressed visions...despair an only guide

Demonized offspring once valuable gifts returned as cracked eggs,

Those grungy birds with clipped wings anesthetized by the suck of life

Through trial tribulation and a tad bit o’ pain music became their only God.

Bleak spirits stimulated by gurgled chords sung by fallen angels 

Their amplified sound resonating to a sea of grungy people,

Unifying words once contrived then reborn in a wonderland called nirvana

Like Alice once chained in a garden of sound smeared by their pearly jam.

Their needle pricked Doc Martens running toward distorted sensory impressions 

While bacchanalian prophets handed out mushroom flavored Kool-aid for fee,

Seething amplified instruments soiled the foggy air with whine and wisdom

As the cast of grunge wax and waned in a pit of derelict minds covered in dirty plaid.

One of many from sodden soil a master of grief his name was Layne

Many more from yards of tattooed skin a Kurt a Chris and an Eddie,

Nursed by mud honey baptized by malfunctioning priests then stoned to death

Their flock of grunge migrated by purpose now eating from their screaming tree.

These x-grungy people now sip from hot hazel brew and visit properly 

Their past imperfect lives now laid to waist by new found prescription divinities,

Sounds survive great healing symphonies embedded with wailing aggression 

I remember them well dead or alive who sang for the souls of those grungy people.