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Full Time Job

by Neil Heddings 5 years ago in sad poetry
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Streets of Copper

The lowest we can go.

I don't know


Just mine.

But I say


Cuz no one wants to go at it


I was always

Truly alone.

When you live in a tent

In a bush.

And your neighbor

The one you do dope with

Lives in a box

Under the freeway overpass.

And you get your money by

Stealing copper and

Bikes and

Maybe Grand Theft Auto.

Not the game


Real life alone.

Dirty ass clothes

Stinky sox

No boxers at all.

Haven't been inside

A real house in...

Haven't called my Mom or

Any of my old friends.

Forget everything

you once knew.

For that is

No longer available.

Be prepared not to care.

This life is

All consuming.

Just life on the streets

Drug addiction...

It's a full-time job.

sad poetry

About the author

Neil Heddings

Star I write so I can learn to live with who I am without destroying myself as punishment. Learn to love yourself if you ever hope to love at all.

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