moody teenagers do produce geniuses, moody geniuses do produce teenagers

i should start
at the part
where the tired
and the lonely
take apart
the tinkling
of any girl's art,
who was a lost cause
waiting to be found
on highways
and byways,
by the pavement,
the cracked slabs,
i'll take hunger
where i need it
in dribs and drabs
like
all these vessels
put together,
sad shrivelled excuses
holding drinking water,
and
i'm a lost,
i'm a lonely,
wasn't you i saw
disown me
with a wink
and a shy
sly eye.
he was a goner,
the switch tripped,
the light nearly died
but oh,
i am a lighter fuel for you,
true n cruel
and lowly -
i'm shown
ever too late
and too alone - me.
where'd the pretty years go?
thirteen and a dirty knickers
and blood smear on her fingers.
she bought Plath
and watched them
dig up bodies
while she was eating
her fish fingers.
19 years, where'd it go?
i'm an old one now
and still alone,
still here, was never there,
tried to be a good one,
tried to be fair,
and now, its taken too long
to fill my empty lungs with song
and cast off these cast - offs,
take and play, swing and sway,
ole`.
she's alright girl
let's make her here to stay,
catching sweetness on the hooks of desire,
chasing widows' money,
to light a dying fire.