Do you Ever have those days

When you just get out of work late,

and you reek like fish from

Chopping off their heads,

And you just are feeling the strain

So Hard,

that you get in your car

and drive to an abandoned asylum

down the road

and walk through the empty rubble-filled courtyards and hallways

and feel the crunch of broken glass under your feet

and look at all the empty, staring windows

and stare right back?

I do.

And I stare at the trees growing out of collapsed rooftops

and the forests of weeds,

At The bottles smashed

(for whatever reason, I may never know)

I stare at the smokestacks and the crumbling roads

at the old Televisions

and the rusted out Machines and rotted plywood.

It’s nights like these

when I take every piece of

graffiti to heart,

And it just crushes me to see

that sad street art,

The overpasses decorated with their scripture.

Just going to drive back home

and write another poem

that she’ll never even read,

Got to try to get some sleep

before I’m born again tomorrow,

but somehow I know

that I won’t get much of that tonight;

So Here I come, tomorrow!