simple truth

I’ll head for Philadelphia, with my bluejeans and the truth.

The memories do harm to me, with tragedy as proof. 

I’ll count the towns I pass through, each one with despair. 

I know they all each have a girl who’s clinging to a prayer. 

The words cut through my keeping, they find me in the dark.

The pictures flash, the tremors last, it seems the past has left its mark. 

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Comments (3)

  1. hugr5

    Well written.

    February 24, 2016
  2. yayuki

    good one

    February 24, 2016