LYRICAL POETRY: Bobbi Jo’s Ballad

Bobbi Jo woke up late in the afternoon

To the sun shining across the valley

Went downstairs, there was no silver spoon

Her kitchen looked like someone’s alley

 

Alcohol and cigarettes

The breakfast of a former champ

Chased with loss and lots of regrets

Bobbi Jo is just a tramp.

 

She doesn’t cook her meals in a pot

She does it with a lighter and spoon

It’s not just the flame that gets hot

It’s the clammy hand of doom.

 

Tie the rubber on the vein

Tap the flesh and feed the need

Inject the needle, kill the pain

Throw it all away, indeed.

 

You count silence in the morning

Sleep until the sun goes down

The red in your head is another warning

That your lungs are sure to drown.

 

Bobbi Jo, what you don’t know

Is that the day gets no longer

The golden snow kills you slow

The shackles on your throat get stronger.

 

Bobbi Jo was once a queen

On silver chrome with wings of fire

But there’s no hope for a hungry teen

When they’re empty of all but desire.

 

In the silence of a blurry night

Bobbi Jo shot her last catch

She lost her breath and her sight

To the poison of a burning batch.

 

Now Bobbi Jo is in the ground

A wasted youth who lost her years

When the needle drags you down

You got nothing left but tears.

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