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Sorez work is prolific, and feeling. This is a small collection of his scribing.

Past Deeds Done

Copyright Sorez the Scribe

A lifetime of sorrow
Built upon
A solid foundation
Of mistrust
Brought in as a kid
Done deeds done
Then left to fend
For all by myself
All the while
Being watched
Not cared about
Just watched to see
Who I would turn to
Do your eyes see me now
Blind Ones
I never dimed
Never spoke to the Feds
Never mentioned
Past deeds done
Never touched
Crystal again
Living my lifes time
Filled with sorrow
Regretting Bloody Knuckles
Past Deeds Done


Barbed Wire Fences

Copyright Sorez the Scribe

The old man remembers
How it used to be
Where he came from
Who was whom
Way back when
And yet sometimes
The old man forgets
Where he is now
Who he was and
Sometimes even
Forgets to eat
Yet he does perk up at
Sounding throttles thunder
But then sorrows
Takes over sometimes
The old man remembers
Things he tried to forget
Like his hardcore past
Times he wishes
It coulda been different
His summed up years
Of barbed wire fences
Summed up sorrows
Of an old mans past


Citizens Kare

Copyright Sorez the Scribe

Some of 'em do
We can't do what
Has been done to us
Can' t just write 'em off
And judge their book
By our cover
Some citizens care
I have seen it
Here for myself
In this Place
And citizens have
Seen us out there
Riding benefits
Standing tall
Showing our concern
For others


13

Copyright Sorez the Scribe

Twisted
beyond repair
upon my neck
of sorrow
Guiltless
towards acusations
Hung none the less for
Nothing
Another day spent
in the life
Of Bounty Hunters
As they laugh
At my last breath
As I twist and turn
Making
The fourteenth Knot...


Just Act ?

Copyright Sorez the Scribe

Forgive
Forget
Fuck that
Retribution
Earned
Deserved
A righteous act
Justified for
Past regressions
Fallen for
The past
Justified
Retribution
Or
An unjustified action ?


Code Of Ethics

Copyright Sorez the Scribe

Too old now
To play games
Old dogs know
No new tricks
To be honest
Towards self
The code
I live by


Confrontation

Copyright Sorez the Scribe

The problems of this life
Upon my sorrowed shoulders
Tightening like a noose
Around my neck
Twisting and turning
Yet unable to escape
My life passes
Before my eyes
Mind so filled with garbage
Towards overloading
Only seconds remain
My lifes' breath
gasping for air
Where did I go
Left or right wrong
My stay here prolonged why
My precense here unwelcomed
Tears overflowing heartache
To much for me to bare
Never a threat towards others
Only towards my self
Confronted now with reality
As I twist and turn


Conversations With a 'Nam Vet

Copyright Sorez the Scribe

" 'Nam was like the first day of prison
Did not know what to expect
All you knew or cared about
Was to survive
We called 'em virgins
Prison calls 'em fish
Pretty boys never last
In either confrontation
A prison bitch
Or a body bag
Was offered
I chose Viet Nam
I was nobody's prison bitch
Ever
Let me out
I'll show ya how
To kill without remorse
Fuckers
You locked me up
And now
Wanna reprieve me
To volunteer
For the U.S. Army
Done deal
And I'll show ya how


Cross Roads

Copyright Sorez the Scribe

I could have stayed longer
But it was time to move on
I knew it was time
To go down that road
You knew it also
We would have to agree
That we had to move on
Just not meant to be
The thing that we had
Was such a good thing
Just could not last
Much longer than did
We are two scooter tramps
A Brother and Sis'
Both craving freedom
Of Life in the Wind
But we have crossed roads
Now looking back
Trying to remember
To not forget past
As we go on our way
We shall never fgorget
Downtime at the Cross Roads
Of our lives


Damage Done

Copyright Sorez the Scribe

Wrecked my bike
Wrecked my life
Wrecked my marriage
Wrecked my wife
Wrecked my heart
Wrecked my soul
Wrecked my freedon
Damage done
Time now
To rebuild