A empty pack of cigarettes
An empty match book to
An half bottle of vodka
All consumed by you
A rolled marijuana joint
Lines of cocaine
Then you wonder why
To you life is a drain
Opioids on the table
Too many to even count
You know you feel the way you do
Because your health is not paramount
One day your going to do too much
And you'll overdose
If you're lucky you will die
Rather then end up comatose
(c) 10-27-2020
10-30-2026/RjH !
-
Author:
Raymond Hansell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 30th, 2026 14:20
- Comment from author about the poem: As hard as we tried, he didn't make it.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 1
- In collections: I.
Offline)
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