A written history of Bobby Jameson and his search through the past. Working my way back through the jungle of drug addiction and booze. My family life as a kid was the breeding ground for addicts. No self worth, no help, and one chance to get out alive. Music was the horse I rode out on...and the music business was the horse I rode into hell. Pronounced dead twice from drug over doses, I lived to tell how the pursuit of fame is as deadly as any narcotic I have ever used.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
(part 105) THE SUITCASE
SUITCASE FILLED WITH BROKEN DREAMS
UNATTENDED NOW IT SEEMS
BROKEN HEARTS RESIDE THERE TOO
WITH ALL THE THINGS WE DID NOT DO
JARS OF TEARS WE NEVER CRIED
LAUGHTER THAT HAS LONG SINCE DIED
PROMISES WE NEVER KEPT
COUNTLESS NIGHTS WE NEVER SLEPT
FADED PHOTOS FROM THE PAST
COMMITMENTS MADE THAT DID NOT LAST
OLD RECORDING OF A SONG
SILENCED NOW BY WHAT WENT WRONG
PAPER BAGS OF FOOLISH PRIDE
NOTEBOOKS OF EACH TIME WE LIED
A FADED BUNDLE OF OUR FEARS
CALENDARS OF WASTED YEARS
THE SUITCASE STANDS ALONE UNCLAIMED
IT'S OWNER ABSENT AND UNNAMED
THE CONTENTS NEATLY PACKED AWAY
ARE ADDED TO WITH EACH NEW DAY
Robert Parker Jameson Dec 12, 2008
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