Roberts K Rowberry

Sunday, September 13, 2015



They say that I don’t have a clue

I'm an eight ball with no cue

They say that I don’t pay attention

It’s their dry throats that need a quenching

I don’t know why I listen

In the wind, they’ve been pissn

I try to tell them how I feel

My feelings to them are no big deal

If they knew what they had

They wouldn’t treat me quite so bad

Don’t they see who their hurting

With the demons they are flirting

Don’t believe all you hear

Their intentions are not clear

They don’t give me clear instruction

They are planning my sure destruction

They look at me with soft blue eyes

But very thin is their disguise

In my hopeless cage I rattle

No one to save or to tattle

You will take it to the grave

No one else your planet to save

You will end up all alone

Sitting around his fiery throne