S. Hurley
Gaining greys but still a selling man
Some success but he'll confess as age grows money slows
Young and slick he once could fake a smile
No hands shake as if to break the guilt tinged monologues
His eyes are warm with trust
As he tells of a must
His voice is lined with rust he says "buy me"
Barrooms signs invade his homeward drive
So gla** in hand and foot in mouth he talks of glory days
Drinks grow numb as laughter turns to grey
Words exchanged on someone's name now lead to the clenching
His eyes are red with fight
As he says he is right
You push too far he just might he screams "try me !"
Bedroom light he nurses just one more
Lays supine he straightens spine and thinks of her, he drinks of her
Worked so hard so she could have the best
Despite it all she left and called him selfish, emotionless
His eyes are water now
His kids have moved afar
He thinks of where they are whispers "why me '"