Hurdles

Acting as stupid as a dull door nail
When you could be getting everything right
Thinking you are so amazingly cool
Refusing to even hold any pen
Always very high and smoking a joint
Does your dead and damaged brain even run?

Like a scratched broken record do you run?
Pants sagging and you are biting your nail,
Feigning indifference to the burning joint
That has caught on fire, yet you are right???
In the dark, you prick yourself with a pin
Yet during day, you are so freakin cool

Giving me the shoulder that is so cool
To the touch, go ahead and start to run
Away from the problems, put down that pen
That writes down your fears; cause then it’s death….nail
And coffin. DON’T! I promise you, I’m right
But please prove me wrong and throw out that joint.

All of your mistakes are due to that joint
Staying on the outside, where it is so cool
You still refuse to help yourself and write
Down your problems, you think it’s best to run
You are so slow, like extricating a nail
You have been captured in this wretched pen.

For you’re and my sake, I have penned
This poem; your unstable parents have joint
Custody. You feel you’re being nailed
To a cross, not with jesus; but in the ‘cool’
Depths of hell, yet you still refuse to run
Because you cannot d o anything right.

Please tell me I am finally right.
With that, I take may leave and lay this pen
Down, it is time to quit this final run
We are the same; we both hold this damned joint
We do not have to try to be cool,
In our hurting hearts is the rusty nail.