Dark Days

Dark Days

By Scott S. Batchelor

I lived through dark days when the fall wind plays,

And sweet music falls dead from the sky.

I've worn thin these shoes, paid all my dues,

eternal to constant ask why.

I fell on dark times when my most clever rhymes

were torn from my heart to the floor.

I'm poor, lost and broke, every day I awoke,

Rarely have I asked for more.

I survived black weeks when a wise man speaks

yet only to ask for a dime.

I've known shadow years where my destiny fears

I would not make it in time.

Here in dark days, where the storm winds blow,

Where my loneliness stays and nobody will go.

To wish on a star into nights without dawn,

My mind gone afar but I'm stoned on the lawn.

For the last song has played and the air has turned cold,

I live these dark days at the end of the road.