The Year of Death

The year of death suicidal? Not likely

The fear of meth homicidal? Yeah, might be.

 
 

Unending sadness too deep for you to comprehend

Impending blackness, oh please this stuff has got to end

 
 

An age old enemy could be the end of me

From which I’d tend to flee but I can’t cause it’s within me

 
 

What do you do, do you run do you stand?

In a fight against you, tell me how do you plan?

 
 

To win is to lose, call it done but I can’t

It’s me that I bruise when I fight with this man

 
 

Alone in this battle no friends there aint no backup

Like felonious shadows dope fiends with never stack up

 
 

So go back to your family the only ones that really love you

But even that can be a fantasy they’ve all become to weary of you

 
 

Calm down this thing has become way to much a depressant

I need to stop now and take a break for just a second

 
 
 
 

If you don’t know where I goin you don’t get what I’m sayin

What’s the point of this poem? Let me put it this way then

 
 

Some times you make decisions that it’s cool to do wrong

But when you’re messing with addictions it’s a rule to be strong

 
 

I hope you can take it, cause I know that I can’t

Now homey don’t fake it, you’re no better than I am

 
 

Don’t go that route and end up living with my fate

Be all shot out sittin up in prison at the age of thirty eight

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Comments 1 comment

Nicole 4 years ago

WOW...thats all I can say

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