Sixteen, blueballed,bent all out of shape
by a fucking school
filled with hundred dollar grooms,
folk stars and soldiers of misfortune,
I was nothing but a dope smoking moron,
white and lazy,
treatment bound.

I had nothing.
I was nothing but a rock and roll ghost
until you took hold of my life
stole my dyslexic heart
and returned instead
a replacement.

A better beast was made
one who would dare
an actor in the street,
no longer a passerby.
I became a man who moved
and moved where you required.
You could take me anywhere.
Someone take the wheel
so you can kiss me
on the bus.

Now
you are stuck with me.
Here comes a regular
around your parts.
You can’t lose me
– not until Johnny’s gonna die.

And even then,
I would grant you one final deed:
permission to find another
so that you can inherit the earth
with my replacement.

(Sidewalk Open Mic Challege)