Ross Liskov- A Poem

you can have a mother and father and still be a bastard

wandering lost and lonely

as a Manson girl

I was looking

for some bearded guru

but all I found

were these  empty parking lots

I wandered the streets filled

with dead birds

and clouds muttering to themselves

I was looking for a pot of gold

but all I found was poetry

I wandered over by the tracks

and thought about suicide

but knew even then

that I'm too much of a coward

I wandered lost and lonely

like a severed hand

crawling up the burning walls of Hell

and I'm still looking for something

to rid me of all this bullshit.