Poetry from J.J. Campbell

a crack in the pavement


i often find

the beautiful

to be ugly

and the ugly

to be even

more ugly


it’s a sickness

i’m sure


but just like a

flower growing

in a crack in

the pavement


i’m sure there’s

one such person

out there for me


unless i look a

little closer and

realize that flower

is a fucking weed


any meaning to life


it’s always

the quiet



the ones

that never

fit in


never could

find the right

girl or keep

a friend long

enough to

find any


to life


and in the

rage of


comes the

guns and

the outlaws


the other

loners that

know chaos

is a means

to an end


they just

never tell

you what

that end

may be


no will deep within


they can hope and pray

all they fucking want


there is no will deep

within these inbred

fucks to change



they make money off

of chaos, discontent

and hatred


just like the lord

has told them to


seek revenge and

never trust anyone


and one day


they’ll realize that

goes for the church

as well


brain dead souls


stuck on the road

with these brain

dead souls


a green light must

no longer mean go


hell, at this rate it

doesn’t even mean



there better be a

horrific accident

that makes me sick

to my stomach ahead


hoping to avoid


two days a week

i get to see a future

i’m hoping to avoid


wheelchairs, walkers,

assistance with every

little detail


i get home and pour

myself a glass of

something strong


i’m hoping to be

dead before 50


of course, i see study

after study saying

that stubborn drinkers

live longer


i’m hoping i’m once

again the exception

to the rule