Nights colder than polished steel. <br />Sleeping on the floor of some band house. <br />Intoxicating sobriety looms. <br />Were you with me? <br />I may have meet you there. <br />So many friends who come and go. <br />Only a few actually say good-bye. <br />Keeping warm by those who knew me. <br />Froozen by those who left my side. <br />Music, Life, Twenty Four Hours. <br />Forever it seemed for all of us. <br />What was it we were looking for? <br />A party? A toke? A life of hopes? <br />All of a sudden the fun ended. <br />The lights went out. <br />I started growing hair from my ears. <br />White instead of blond. <br />Drinking wasn't fun, nor any party. <br />I could never hold my liqour anyways. <br />We grew up, apart, alone. <br />The music stayed. <br />Cursing those of us who live it. <br />A feeling unlike any other. <br />This rythme, this beat, this sound. <br />We never found what we were looking for. <br />It was all a haze for many. <br />Looking back now at the loss of time. <br /> I realized the one thing that kicks me to this day. <br />It wasn't the night that was cold as steel. <br />Nor the empathy of lifes battles. <br />It was the choices we made because we had no other. <br />Nobody showed us how to grow. <br />Nobody showed me, in my younger days.<br /><br />Gulliver Gimble<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-younger-days/
