The Devils Bed

The Devils Bed

Lights, bright blinking lights,
Above wicked streets and feral frights,
And the man on the corner holds out his hand,
Wating for that which can end his plights.

Cash, gold and silver cash,
From big machines insert, pull, and stash,
And the girl on the street still needs more tar,
Thats why she dresses down, and acts so brash.

Win, I must always win,
No matter the odds, hit, double, or spin,
And the beast right here needs another chance,
No problem, thats just one more deadly sin.

Why do I feel so dead?
I was just passing through,
But I must have lost my head,
Because that was very long ago,
Now I can never leave,
For my pockets in the red,
And my family does'nt want want me,
For I'm sleeping in the devils bed.

© Copyright 2006 B.C. Green (UN: khart-ian at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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