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  You are @ HomeAdults Stories & Scripts

Stories & Scripts

Source: Adults

Author: Barry Gee

Title: Rough Side.

The rats ran around on rough side though they were the human kind.

By day they slept uncertain sleep, at night they fooled the blind.

Reality was their enemy, the bottle was their friend.

Living on hope and charity and all providence could send.

He was dragged up on rough side where a curse is nothing worth.

It's just the common currency you inherit with your birth.

Hopeless, numb, frustration was paraded every day

And everyone accepted it as the price you had to pay.

Too sensive and gentle to wheel and deal his way.

Music was his main release in a world where might held sway.

He crept across to smooth side, on the soft side of the tracks.

Where mothers practiced suicide and filled the holes with cracks.

She was raised to be a princess, he was born to be a thief.

They met one night at Maxie's where they went for some relief.

Through the coloured heat she looked at him, he could feel her burning stare.

On shaking legs he walked to her through the clinging neon air.

They sat down at a table that was vacant near the door.

The words they spoke were meaningless, the silence meant much more.

His heart beat madly through his chest, she was breathing deep and slow.

Her hand reached out to cloak his own like the night-time covers snow.

An hour passed or maybe more, they were not counting time.

But others noticed and they saw this wordless pantomime.

The table was surrounded and angry words were spoke.

He was told to go before the show became more than a joke.

He looked at her, she looked at him, he didn't know what to do.

He felt as caged and lonely as an animal in the zoo.

He held the empty bottle like a statement in his hand.

And raised himself to make a point he didn't understand.

An angry answer struck him down as he was halfway to his feet.

He felt his confidence cave in and already felt defeat.

He felt her eyes upon him, indifferent and cold.

It's just the price you have to pay for getting far too bold.

He crept back down to rough side and he licked his aching wounds.

And slept that night on broken springs while hearing shattered tunes.

He dreamt of blood and sweet revenge but woke up far too soon.

And cursed his hopeless destiny beneath a waning moon.



Published on writebuzz®: Adults > Stories & Scripts
 

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