The Pirate Life
We may have to fight
With concealed guns
And razor-sharp knives
To make it from the east side
To our lost friends on the west side.
We have seen the blood-spattered pavement
Mournfully cradle the dead,
Eyes begin to slowly shut
Softly flashing last prayers
And farewell glances.
The pirate life in the gang-sectioned-off city,
Luna, with your tight jeans and sweet smile,
We made peace with the Hispanic kids,
They’ll let us slide for the next mile
Until we at least catch up with Joey the Freak.
Hold on tight the journey has just begun
And I can feel the breath of considerable threats,
But you’re like a good-luck charm, sweetheart,
So I’m placing my bets,
We’ll find Joey and then make it home for another night.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Added by Poetry Lover
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