he picked you up at one night
while you're working on the streets. you're
in need, hooked on smack. you hussled and
you scored. "That's all I do" you said,
you said to him, "Ten bucks for head and
fifteen for half-and-half". you said calmly
there's three hits a day sometime. but sometimes
not. he looked into your eyes he said, "then
you'll need 7 tricks a day" not knowing sometimes
you're lucky. you told him
once a guy gave you like a bill-and-half
just to eat you. "thats the only time
i came" you said.
at that time you knew he wanted to save
you. but who cares, you asked. he just determined
to sell his colour tv, that used to keep you
off the streets whole day. he hocked his
typewriter. then the shotgun. the watch. you looked
a week later he said, "listen im a little short"
you looked calmly you said, "no scratch,
no snatch" how cruel these words could be.
he said it is better to give. you said
"beat off creep"
One night they spotted him on the street in the
skibbies trying to sell his shoes. he told them
who he is, but they nailed him. showing
how cruel this world can be. Then you happened by
you said, "Christ you look fucked" the you happened
away saying "hang tough" you laughed. he didn't
say a word
he just thought, just thought
what a bum rap for a nice and sensitive guy