I heard you sing “birds burn alone” thinking you meant to rise, a firebird Now I see you standing lost and lonely in Piccadilly Circus, a ghost wrapped in curls Of carnival red and yellow flame – not standing tall from the ashes, but leaving a residue of hunger Like water marks on stone where you live under bridges burning memories and trash to keep warm
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qbit 
It just seems like life goes medieval on some people and they never really have a chance. Thanks for being part of the WG Word List, my friend.
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Yes. I tried to find some salvation here, but failed. Thanks for the terrific word list and for Jackson Frank.
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‘try another city baby, try another town’ the poem you composed IS his story! Bravo.
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Great quote! Thanks.
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‘Burning memories and trash to stay warm..” it comes to us all, but for him it never left and that was his tragedy. Vivid and sharp, full of insight and sympathetic magic.
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Thanks.
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This is sadness captured in poem as was his life. This is beautiful as was his voice. Lovely writing Qbit!
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Thanks!
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