Behind Johns Waterfall
From Within The Bottle
From within the bottle I can look out and see.
A very distorted and disturbed replica of me.
From within this bottle I searched for a way to escape.
But from within this bottle I ended up like a virgin being raped.
The liquid within this bottle could be sweet and tangy,Smooth and so nice.
But only until it takes control of your life.
What's within the bottle will seduce you like a wife or girlfriend.
But can also be what will kill you in the end.
So please listen to me and hear what I say.
For I have lived this kind of life for many a day.
From within the bottle I now see just how far down
This poor person went who now peers back at me.
This replica you see gave up and lost everything that
was so dear to me.
For He stole money,love and lost the trust of family and friends.
Even conned his way with them all until the end.
From within this bottle I see the days and nights that
was spent down on the Bowery.
There were places at times you got some food and a warm cot.
Most times though it was a park bench,doorway or rooftop.
That was found for the use of a bed.
This is all I had left to lay my head.
Smoked cigarette butts I found on the ground.
Swiped oranges and apples when no-one was around.
That I then sold on the corners for enough change for a pint.
Now as I gaze out from within this bottle I now can see.
If I continue with my life this way there probably wouldn't be
Anything left of me to tell this true story.
Footnote: This poem is a small part of my life.
Written August 17,2004
A very distorted and disturbed replica of me.
From within this bottle I searched for a way to escape.
But from within this bottle I ended up like a virgin being raped.
The liquid within this bottle could be sweet and tangy,Smooth and so nice.
But only until it takes control of your life.
What's within the bottle will seduce you like a wife or girlfriend.
But can also be what will kill you in the end.
So please listen to me and hear what I say.
For I have lived this kind of life for many a day.
From within the bottle I now see just how far down
This poor person went who now peers back at me.
This replica you see gave up and lost everything that
was so dear to me.
For He stole money,love and lost the trust of family and friends.
Even conned his way with them all until the end.
From within this bottle I see the days and nights that
was spent down on the Bowery.
There were places at times you got some food and a warm cot.
Most times though it was a park bench,doorway or rooftop.
That was found for the use of a bed.
This is all I had left to lay my head.
Smoked cigarette butts I found on the ground.
Swiped oranges and apples when no-one was around.
That I then sold on the corners for enough change for a pint.
Now as I gaze out from within this bottle I now can see.
If I continue with my life this way there probably wouldn't be
Anything left of me to tell this true story.
Footnote: This poem is a small part of my life.
Written August 17,2004
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From Within The Bottle
From Within The Bottle