poem

[writenow003]

Luck of the Lost

touch me on the shoulder
pass me the luck
you always seem to carry
as your four leaf clover magically
turns into some kind of charm
i wish i could put on a chain
to slip around my neck
feel the cold metal chilling my skin
as the world pushes me toward the mosh pit
where i'm tossed aside and shoved to the stage
pressed so hard against it
the wood bruises my skin

how did i get to this strange hotel room
the charm around my neck is gone
gone is the music, the energy, the hope
you gave to me
when you touched my shoulder
if you can't pass me your luck
then just pass me the bottle
i'm make my own (i'll make my own)
cause i've got myself convinced i don't need you

the night is passed and the day is here
but my memory is lost
the tiled floor of the bathroom is so cold
and why is my hair wet with sweat
the vile taste left in my mouth
lets me know how long i've been out
and the charm clutched in my fist
just helped cause this
so i toss it out the window and scream (just scream)
toss it all aside
toss it all away
and SCREAM

what are people's thoughts? good, bad, ugly? valid, angst-filled, beautiful, whiney?