ArtisticallyWordy

My brand of the poison so many pills that make me feel so great drinking drinking drinking until it's black. Pills, pipes, needles! So many things. I feel great. .... I need more, dammit. More. C'mon! Give it here! Give it! I need it. Give me more, give me money or you brains are on the floor. .... Aaaaaah, something new. Snorting, putting it on bread. Oh, I feel great. .... More. I need more. More more more more Or your brains on the floor. ..... I feel sick. Sick, sad, and the world is spinning black and lights are flashing and there's something right next to me and the world is going

Let's have another 40 oz for freedom When our chains are self complied Made as an excuse for recklessness Like waves lost in a tide Running off an addiction But then again don't I? A question I often ask myself Is where I go and why? It's the sad sad tale of a populus Running toward an end that's nigh So unkept in terms of keeping Dreams we once kept close by Adults clothed in baby faces Just trying to pass 18 Without a vice or a chunk of time Spent in a jail scene gang You'd spent two nights up smoking meth How can I even start To feel hurt or sad or remorse for the condition That the world had done on your heart