desperate age

memories of people i've met, in a different lifetime, and a different world

this is a stained and desperate age

people hurrying from one high to another

leaking hope, re-filling with rage

fragmented families replaced with another

filling the streets with the pains of our life

lost in the crowds of insincere strangers

hearts hardening daily to suffering or strife

they live at the end, amid insanities dangers

there is nothing easy about the world where they live

love and life is cheap, the future has no value

each day is spent getting, with no thought to give

no purpose or goals, seldom anything new

feel sorrow for those on that serrated edge

and beware for your money, safety, and life

they hide among us, on that bleakest ledge

armed with nothing to lose, maybe a gun or a knife

seeking to excape the sight of their own despair

they slump in the shadows with no friends but drink

hiding even from their fellows who would share

a lonely drunk is a good one they think

or maybe they saunter, or swagger around

a pack or a gang, or a few feeling high

making it known that this is their ground

owning nothing but 6 feet by 2 when they die

most haven't the sense to work for their pay

no address they dare give, no home at all

they haven't the nerve to leave their decay

there's just to many bricks in the wall

i made it out with sweat, blood, and a hammer

i feel no despair, and i have found love to share

that is what was missing, before i met her

now i'm learning to love, and i truly care.

Author's Note

cool. ?