A Wannabe Rock Star
I knew a guy who played guitar
And liked to think himself a star;
He thought he equalled Kurt Cobain
If not in talent, then in pain.
Unfortunately pain don't sell,
There was no market for his hell
And so he turned to heroin
Which fed his hunger and kept him thin.
Now all of us are getting older
I'm thinking of that chip on his shoulder;
I sometimes wonder if he's dead,
Missed by his friends like a hole in the head!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Added by Poetry Lover
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