~Golden Rings ~
I remember a time not long ago when I held the golden rings tight in my hands,
I look up now and the rings are gone only thing left is faded frayed useless rope.
Karma has come kicking, and screaming at me with the vengeance of a thousand blooded blades, twisting at me with the force of a thousand broken lives.
I use to write for the homeless know I am inches away from adding myself to their plight in life.
No money in my pocket but yet I still breath,
Every breath I take reminds me that I am a broken man without the golden rings in my hands.
So should I do a crime so at least I have a place to ease my lost and broken mind?
I remember a time not long ago when my girl loved me and wanted it to show,
Know she finds other people and places to be,
So she doesn’t have to hang with me!
inkmaster
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