My life is full of tragedy

Hurt and pain left and right

I see things a little differently

Looking for sunshine in the night

Condemned by them

Isolation

Controlled by them

Aggravation

Freedom lost

Twice the cost

I am on probation

The milkman used to come up this way,

Bringing us his creamy milk, and stories, back in the day.

A dusty train followed him, rising up into the sky,

His buggy drove low, but his spirits sang high.

In my mind, I still see his horse-drawn car,

“Within the surface of the fleeting river the wrinkled image of the city lay.” I stopped and observed this for some time deep in thought about how much I wanted a gas-powered sweater. Sadly, being a stand up comedian, I had little or no money.