Ill: Kkc


My father killed my mother with a shovel
he said he had got enough
he was a doctor and we were only kids
used to him playing rough
We buried her a Sunday in the garden
where the German Shepard lies
never saw that dog,
but they told me it was
like my fathers favorite child
My sister collected the syringes
and prayed a psalm over them
she was always so pretentious
little sweet daddy's pry
My brother cried and ask our dad
is mother home with God
no, he laughed, she is most certainly
with Janis Joplin, my boy

Home, she is home
She is home with Janis Joplin

My brother stopped crying
and life went on lying
we had the maid come extra days
My father married a cousin
he was tired of lonely ways
my mother could never give him
what that stepmother whore could give
us, she would torture always
when she wasn't busy robbing him
Well, I lived trough it and got away
along a winding road
I met both hell and heaven
and I deeply resented them both

Home, I wanna go home
home to Janis Joplin

And Vivian opens her window
to the garden at the end of the road
falling into to Janis arms
she was waiting for her, you know
I'm standing sadly smiling
on the road to my Marie
Janis say I must struggle on
one day they are coming back for me !

Home, I wanna go home
to Janis Joplin
tired of barely coping
sick of all this hoping
putting all my faith in
ending up here crawling..
So home
I just wanna go home
to Janis Joplin

Poetry by PapaFahr The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 835 times
Written on 2008-12-28 at 02:59

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What a write! Fascinating!