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Scrawlings From The East

A Poem For The Disenfranchised

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Fag and a can

Got me sen a fag and a can
Two black eyes cos I’m the man
Tattoos and dots on me face
Scars and jeans to hide me grace
Sovereign rings on every knuckle
Think we’re cool but our mover’s chuckle
Payin’ through their eyes and nose
So we can trash it with the bros
Shake it out and strut our stuff
Violence is a poor man’s bluff

Got me sen a fag and a can
A girlfriend and a brand new pram
Six stone nothing; always bitchin’
‘Bout me flat without no kitchen
Fridge half empty, can half full
Take this pain and make it dull
Lines of coke to make life faster
Holes in doors, fists in plaster
Thinkin’ how love is felt
With the buckle on me old man’s belt

Got me sen a fag and a can
Map, a compass but no real plan
Plen’y of time to see the past
Check out the mold from which I’m caste
Through me tears I see me fate
Bits of love but stacks of hate
Bless me girlfriend that she chooses
A life with me and all those bruises
Her face broken, my face frowns
Are kids get me hand-me-downs…

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Updated February 18th, 2021 at 11:50 AM by TheMightyAz

Categories
Poetry

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