Ryan Runs

A little boy with a gun in his hand,
In the stead of a plastic toy,
With a dad who had a burning temper,
Working in a store down the road,
One day Ryan saw his raging father,
Drive a knife into the neck of his mother,
The blood spurted out to form a pool,
Fierce red on the floor below,
And then his dad turned to Ryan and said,
‘Son it’s just a nightmare, dinner and of to bed.’
Ryan runs from his haunting childhood,
Into a world with lies for shelter,
And the marks on his hand tell a story,
Of how he sold his soul to lady heroin!

He spoke to trees, told them his tales,
Tales of how his blood burned in hatred,
The trees had no tears to shed,
But gave him dry leaves for comfort
Ryan wrote poetry to ease his soul,
Then drowned his conscience in a bottle of scotch
He walked the world filled with strange people,
He wanted to love, but never knew how to
In the world, he saw love was bounded by rules,
He could not understand, so threw himself in hatred
Rejected the world, that murdered his mother,
That dreadful night, the devil in his father
Ryan runs from the fearful world,
Into a world where peace is rebellion
And his little eyes tell a dreadful story,
Of how he sold his soul to lady heroin!

So Ryan fell in love the first time he could,
Found a pond of hope in a great windy desert
The mystical experience of love he felt,
Smiled for a while, until it broke
Tears of blood, that never trickled down,
Stored in his heart, for the moment of revenge
The moment that never came, to his maddening misery
He slit his hand and saw his own blood drip down,
What else could he do to shed those tears of revenge?
And then some fool across the city offered him a contract,
Made him sell his poetry for those murderous million dollars
Ryan stuck himself in the cruel net of fame,
Never denied he loved it, now he could afford cocaine
Ryan runs from the winds of truth,
Into a world with only trees for friends,
And his words tell a tragic tale,
Of how he sold his soul to lady heroin!

Twenty-nine finally came,
Insanity growing so tremendously fast!
Ryan had his first victim, the old man crossing the road,
As his car knocked him over, the old man cold dead
Only a month he served, He was Ryan Connors anyway,
Back on the road, with greater tales to tell
His words won the coldest of hearts,
Though the dark secrets were concealed within
No one really knew the angel that truly was,
Destroyed by the world, condemned, yet loved,
Loved for his words, for his insane lifestyle
The world destroyed yet another soul,
Destined for greatness, and though still found it,
Died of his own hands, the pellet through his brain
Ryan runs no more from the cruel world that was,
Into a world, with greater lies to tell
And his body at the motel room becomes a part of history,
And how he sold his soul to lady heroin!