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.
Restored Pages
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Sunday, January 25, 2009
(part 122) BROKEN
www.seanduggan.com
LOOKING OUT
THROUGH BROKEN EYES
I SEE THE BIRDS
IN BROKEN SKIES
THE YEARS HAVE PASSED
ON BROKEN CLOCKS
MY THINKING FROM
THIS BROKEN BOX
LEFT ALONE
ALONG THE SHORE
MY BROKEN SHIP
THE WINDS IGNORE
I WANDER NOW
ALONG THE ROCKS
MY THOUGHTS ARE BROKEN
LIKE THE BOX
BOTTLES DRIFT IN
ON THE TIDE
WITH BROKEN
MESSAGES INSIDE
AND I ALONE
THE WORLD STILL MOCKS
THE THINKER IN
THE BROKEN BOX
Robert Parker Jameson Jan 2009
Bobby, that's absolutely BEAUTIFUL--but sad, too.
ReplyDeleteAnother masterpiece.....I loved "Dance" on your my space,but then again I love everything you write.You are special.
ReplyDeleteJennie
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ReplyDeleteReally interesting metaphor transforming the weary cliché "outside the box" into the intriguingly insightful (and incite-ful) "broken box."
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