By Alfred Brown
This is the poem where I finally got to use the sentence that had been rattling in my brain for a few years “Everything was fine until I got shot in the face.” I wrote it first sometime, probably around 2013, then I did some edits to it around 2014 or 2015. The intention with the edits was to make the poems into songs.
24 -swimming along
Im swimming along and getting by
When a floating worm catches my eye
It seems to be suspended in place
It appears unattended so i race
I quickly snap it into maw
Suddenly theres a pain in jaw
I know this sensation sure
I fell for that familiar lure
C:
Swimming along
Away from the throng
Not where i belong
can’t be free much long
Should’ve known this would happen
Thought to myself oh no not again
Been hooked before but got away
Shouldnt have come back to this bay
Im in trouble but not yet caught
Gonna swim all i can with all i got
But im getting tired cant go no more
I feel em reelin me into shore
So much for the short life of a fish
To’ve been the fisherman is my wish
25 -before too late
Suddenly i turn around, and see that im alone
Where could they be found, where have they gone
I call out to the sky, and say where am i now
I wonder if i have died, and if so, then how
Nothing makes sense, much less what i knew
Is there recompense, for what ive been through
If only i could call, someone for some help
But its like im on a tall, and inaccessible shelf
C:
I would not stop, so it did come for me
A one way drop, into eternity
I think my time, is over to me now
i do not find, time matters any how
If only someone cared, and came to my aid
Im feeling pretty scared, and i start to fade
I think it is the end, this is when i pass away
And at that momment, a friend decides to say
You’re not alone, we’re not gone we’re here
And then a light is shown, and i see them standing near
I was just depressed, i should have guessed it so
Next time ill do my best, before too late, let them know
26 -time on my hands
Time on, my mind never, my hands
I want to, get the best but, do what i can
Expect, the worst and get, no less
Say it, with feeling comes out, in jest
Try, to do it better, and see
So, it goes wrong, constantly
I’m feeling, I’ll get it for free but, poor
You get what you, can tell i, paid for
C:
Living on the edge
The living on edge
The edge of living
Of the living edge
Time on your hands, never do you mind
You want to do what you can, which is the best i find
Expect no less, that even at your worst
Say it in jest, good feeling comes first
Try and see, that you’ll do it better
So constantly, you’re not wrong, you’re the debtor
I’m feeling poor, because you get it for free
You get what you paid for, i can tell it’s me