Jim Morrison came back but didn't get far.
Unbridled addictions taunted him like an emotional scar
and with a stomach fermenting like an old fruit jar
he sits with his lost poetry at the end of this bar!

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Their colonies withstand the test of time
reproducing with its trademark of a dirty crime
invincible to the thought of any final term.
God bless the last man who fights the germ!

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It's a dark place that he must adore.
I've caught him laying there once before.
Under my bed of sanctuary his back gets sore
but I rarely see the man who lives next door!

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From each corner of the earth and in between
hunger is prevalent and has always seen
this sustenance of life succumb to defeat
but can't this whole damn planet afford to eat!

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If the dead could account for a published book
another library would be built for a closer look
at the thousands of titles with an author's claim
to rewrite history and clear their shame!

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