Self Fulfilling Prophecy

I seem compelled to ruin,
Before ruin ruins me,
It's my self fulfilling prophecy,

Sometimes it surprises me,
Sometimes I do it purposely,
All to guard against casualty,

I am my own worst ememy.
At this war's end there will only be me,
It's my self fulfilling prophecy.


“The same hand that can write a beautiful poem, can knock you out with one punch—that's Poetic Justice.”
― "Irish" Wayne Kelly

Revisited

It's been over two years since last I'd been there,
Though it seemed like a lifetime of pain and despair,
My feet found the platform at 96th and Broadway,
My heart sank instantly,
My knees nearly gave way,
I staggered up the stairs and into the light,
In my stomach- a pit,
Of both woe and of fright,
I scampered and scurried up through the street,
My eyes squinting desperately in hopeless defeat,

I prayed half out loud to get me there soon,
I asked Him to help me find that little Saloon,
When I finally arrived and sat with my drink,
My hands still trembled,
I still couldn't think-

Like a warrior revisiting the battlesite,
Or a widow a her beloved's gravesite,

So I prayed once more,
This time for peace,
And I felt the despair begin to cease.

Tears on the Upper East Side

Sitting at a bar on E 78th with a friend I just met,
Talking about life, love, and regret,
I sip my beer slowly. I try to be strong,
The jukebox plays another sad Irish song,
I tell her how I got to this part of town,
My eyes well up. My face starts to frown,
I take a deep breath and I go on to explain,
Life's been hard and I've been in pain,
People have died. Friends have betrayed,
Work isn't easy and I'm underpaid,
She marvela how I came this far,
To this big City, To this little bar,
So I tell her quite simply

If you ask me where I go to cry,
My tears fall here on the Upper East Side,
They flow to the East River,
And wash away with the tide,
Forget being strong,
Put aside Irish pride,
When I exit the 6 train,
On the Upper East Side

Sitting at a bar on E 78th with a friend I just met,
Talking about life, love, and regret,
The girl from Galway brings us another two stouts,
And confesses she heard what we're talking about.
She tells us she's been here just over a year,
Seeing America and serving us beer,
She rents a flat in Woodlawn,
Works from dusk until dawn,
She doesnt know if she'll get to stay,
She misses her father and her friends in Galway,
She asks us if we'll help her to pray,
She smiles weakly and tells us quite simply

If you ask me where I go to cry,
My tears fall here on the Upper East Side,
They flow to the East River,
And wash away with the tide,
Forget being strong,
Put aside Irish pride,
When I exit the 6 train,
On the Upper East Side

Sitting alone at a bar on E 78th ...
My friend has since left,
Thinking about life, love, and regret,
I sip my beer slowly and try to be strong,
As the jukebox plays another sad Irish song,
It's been a long time since I first came here,
Since the Galway girl served her last New York beer,
Though life is now better and things have been well,
The past is the past, yet my heart starts to swell.
The memories still come and flow with the tide,
As I sit alone in this bar on the Upper East Side.

If you ask me where I go to cry,
My tears fall here on the Upper East Side,
They flow to the East River,
And wash away with the tide,
Forget being strong,
Put aside Irish pride,
When I exit the 6 train,
On the Upper East Side