Quite something
You feel nothing
But you're walking a road you can't see
Haven't broken
Since she chose him
But you're not holding on, just numb
Ten was too young for loss
and Twelve was no age for using
the cost was at Fifteen, you were sinking
thinking of suicide.
Eighteen was wrong for selling
to your brother, he was Six years younger
at Thirteen he lay broken
legs wide open, plunged inside
for drugs he loved
to the ages of
young, prime and ripe
Your frozen heart wondered why.
Papa blames you and Mama hates you
But you don't cry
only handcuffs weigh you down
Plaguing your mind:
"If I serve time, might I understand why
the numb grew strong and the love died?"
rough, but hey, it's late...