This is fucking pointless, why am I even trying?
As I waste this cigarette, my song, is slowly dyeing.
As I waste this cigarette, my song, is slowly dyeing.
I can’t write, I can’t relate to your bullshit situations.
Through these years, I’ve wandered off, I boarder aberration.
I’ve found a way to be concise.
a few stark words, and then..
Boom, pick me up.
That’s oh so nice.
Oh wait, I’m dead again.
A simple piece of glass can do it.
Oh so cold and clear..
I play tag with goD from one hit.
Then demons, do I hear.
They tell me how to write my songs,
and argue, will I not.
How could I?
I’m so sedated..
Such love can’t be bought .
Oh, wait.
Yes it can…
That’s how this came to be.
50 dollars, half a gram, sugar coated me.
[(tell me what you think, even if you absolutly hated it. I like opinions..oh, and please don’t take my poem.)]