The Good Guy Lament

GOOD GUY LAMENT

There is a register for the bad boys
And not so much for the good
It’s easy to be unwashed convicted fingers surly
Curly, and so much harder to be a mute not groping
Under skirt under sheets under handed
And not sleek but dry hard-minded.

Why we good ones throw away the rules of lines
In different ways
They don’t have to be even
They can be moon stricken blue and gold and night
Full of stars without a beer or cars or lying lines
Aimed at a deadline of eleven.

You angle look at us, we are the worst the ones
You never seek until the hurts are bleeding and
Out of the corner of your eye you see
We love, that boring love
Which holds your foot when you finally try to climb away.

And you do not look back because you are never away
But back in trap and crushed in broken bones of life
Not life
Because you eye to him the nasty glint
That sparks a dirty light, gas station restroom smell
And the never ending flaming lies
You always wanted
Somehow.