Trial of Tryin’
Tryin’
I’m really tryin’...
To kick the crime,
and the habit of the crime...
There’s a tick burrowed
in these fabrics
of my own design,
but I’m tryin’...
to kick that evil
to the back of the long line...
Sweat wells on my
forehead
from this instrumental heat...
Feel the thousand lashes leapin’,
as I drag ass
to the street...
...It’s all just my sweet burden,
and it takes up
all my time,
killing all earthly ambitions
flying outwards
on my climb...
...Watch cars crash/
women screech 'n scream
(It's like I'm in a haze)
against the shining underpass
of avarice that weighs...
I’ll dance among
the sainted shacks
until the roof falls
on my ears...
I'll dance until
I'm on our backs,
and prodded with
your spears...
Tryin’...
Yes, I’m tryin’,
in a plain-clothes kind of garb
to shift far from countless miseries
though it’s gets so goddamned hard...
...And you hate to see a pattern
where there ain’t one sprig o' vice...
...Then the vice comes back
to dress you
like a theif that’s stained
your night...
″...When to brake, now?...
What to try?...”
It comes so slowly
to reply...
Tryin’ ’til my flame
burns out,
and then I
tumble to your floor...
...Dyin’ like a fish
in drought
of water on your shore...
I’m really tryin’,
’til I
can try not...
...This notion shakes me
from my spot...
Because it’s then that I can
Kick old griefs...
...My trial of tryin’
gifts me
with reprieve.
Tryin’
I’m really tryin’...
To kick the crime,
and the habit of the crime...
There’s a tick burrowed
in these fabrics
of my own design,
but I’m tryin’...
to kick that evil
to the back of the long line...
©
7/4/20
Bunny Villaire
Edit #3