Poppin’ pills
Not payin’ bills
Mind berserk
Can’t stop this shit
Washin’ ‘em down with booze
Don’t you know
This mother-fucker
is born to lose
Tossin’ in bed
Thoughts in the head
Piss stain on the sheet
It ain’t comin’ clean
Don’t you know
This fucked-up boy
Is fucked in the head
gonna die with one final blow
-
Author:
James Michael (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 8th, 2021 20:01
- Comment from author about the poem: For Hunter S. Thompson. R.I.P.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 57
- Users favorite of this poem: A Boy With Roses
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.