A bad joke without lines Punch the air, hands collapse in desperate coma My eyes pinpoint out the illusion, a bad dream these ties A stale and ugly kiss Handsome ridges melt away the layers of waste, think prodding savior eating away at raw nerve flesh ... Self-medicating ghost of times past forgotten There is no dark pride in loneliness Escape those thick heads, denounce those addictions and memory fade What?s your pleasure, pistol or syringe? ...Watch those memories Or drop dead
Friday, April 24, 2009
sick
because I learned to take my medicine; because I was a big boy for taking it; because I can take it like a man; because, as somebody once said, HE'S GOT MORE BALLS THAN I DO; because it is an act of courage; because it does take guts; because I'm proud of it; because I can't climb mountains; because I'm terrible at sports; because NO PAIN, NO GAIN; because SPARE THE ROD AND SPOIL THE CHILD; because YOU ALWAYS HURT THE ONE YOU LOVE
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment