Getting Clean Problem (Poem)

My life is on the skids My soul is on skid row I got a blight of a mind way out the line inside a tomb I can’t remember when I went mad Allz I know is I’m no fool I got a million reasons why I can’t get in line with all your drool I’m married to my filth Dirt from head to foot I never wash my hand clean of the messes that I earn I’m in debt for things I don’t own anymore I got nothing in my bag At times I reminisce on the life I never had You say I have a drinking problem But I don’t know what that means Maybe you got me confused with somebody who cares what you think

Fair Weather Plans (Poem)

Are you a fair weather wind? A gust that blows on by in pleasantry Then fades away just as the sweat starts to bead on a hot summer day What is fair? And who’s to know what weather will come? At what time? All plans off… What plans can stand against life’s term? Planning for fair weather is a planned disaster Fair weather plans can’t weather a storm Fair weather friends are gone before they go But a plan for a storm is a plan worth to share And stay weather friends are the only ones who care