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.
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Tuesday, March 10, 2009
(part 154 ) LONELINESS SPEAKS WITH THE ENEMY
THE GUARD CANNOT HEAL MY HEART
HE CAN ONLY PROTECT IT FROM FURTHER HARM
HE IS SAD WHEN THE CHILD IS SAD
THERE IS NOTHING HE CAN DO
TO BE SO CAPABLE YET INCAPABLE
TO BE THIS LOST YET INESCAPABLE
TO BE SO CLOSE YET SO DISTANT
TO BE THIS VULNERABLE YET SO RESISTANT
I AM A RIVER WITHOUT A BED
BLOOD WITHOUT RED
DEATH WITHOUT BEING DEAD
A VOICE NEVER SAID
SO COMPLETE IS MY MISERY
IT GOES UNNOTICED BY THE WORLD
LIKE A HOMELESS MAN
I AM PART OF THE LANDSCAPE
IT PAINS THE GUARD TO FEEL THE CHILD'S MISERY
HE WISHES HE COULD HAVE BEEN HERE BEFORE
BEFORE THE DAMAGE CAME
BEFORE THE CHILD WAS RAVAGED
THE CHILD WEEPS TEARS OF BLOODY SALT
AND CRIES OUT TO THE WORLD
THE GUARD KNOWS THESE ARE DANGEROUS TIMES
WHEN LONELINESS SPEAKS WITH THE ENEMY
HOW CAREFUL THE GUARD MUST BE
TO ALLOW BUT BE READY
TO DISALLOW
AND BE STEADY
SO MUCH PAST
SO LITTLE FUTURE
SO MANY VOICES
SO FEW OPTIONS
I AM BUT A BLOTCH IN THE DIRT
A THING SO HURT
THAT I CANNOT FIND THE PIECES
TO MEND
BROKEN INSIDE AND OUT
TORMENTED BY CONSCIOUSNESS
LIKE A BAD DAY
THAT LASTS A LIFETIME
Bobby Jameson
I am way behind in reading all you have written. You are a great writer and I feel every word to the end of my soul. As I read each line it was as if it was my story, my feelings. God Bless You for sharing your life, your music, poems, and your story. You are truly a miracle and I am blessed to know you.
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