I searched the world
looking at the stars.
I’ve spent some time
of mine behind bars.

I know of bourbon
whiskey fighting such
for those who can’t
fight themselves much.

People the world is
cruel and the air turns
when the peace in a
room from anger burns.

I want the little things
that the light left after
it burned away strife to
reveal all the laughter.

I’ve drowned my sorrow
to sad tunes in acrid time
when I was a fool cruel
and payed none no mind.

But soft is my belly I fall
too many times before
I reach that open wide
and welcoming door.

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