Binges, binge this, binge that.
Never tried twack, nor crack,
40+ Unisom Sleep Gels,
Put me in some intense sleep spells.
Tried my first Xan,
ate all 14 blues in my hand.
Still hadn't even had ***,
Didn't have a phone to text.

I ate 63 Unisom this time,
but I knew I felt fine.
Walked in the night through my town,
till those Webb City cops had to put me down.
Got a really awesome plug,
taught me how to deal and ****.
Tried twak, crack and sold it to my city,
I could get a gram for fifty.

Caught my first DWI,
dude I'm not drunk! but I was high.
I sat in the Jasper County Jail,
read all the bible while I was in my cell.
Got my best friend pregnant,
man life was really pleasant.
4 months my seed dies,
only God could hear my cries.

7 bottles of cough suppressant,
God came to me in my coma segment.
I had no intentions of turning away,
I was living my life day for day.
Shot my first handgun,
I started my life on the run.
I hated the world and I hated myself,
I had everything except for help.

3 hits of acid, 1 bottle of cough syrup, some ****, DMT, and Hash.
My 20th birthday had to be a bash.
I saw a dragon hatch from the sky,
I swore we all were gonna die.
I couldn't wait for the world to end,
I had not a single friend everyone was for pretend.
Started going by Okey Dokey,
caused more mischief than Loki!

I wound myself down with a girl,
I thought she was my world.
We thought we were in love,
but we just loved to rub.
Left her after a week of being locked up,
I wanted to be like a lotus that grows from the muck.
I found a relationship with my Lord and Saviour,
I couldn't believe that what he had set for me later!

Turning the age of 22 and confined,
I was started to see becoming less blind.
I was baptized in the jail,
I gave up my feelings to fail!
Now here I am,
becoming a man.
I live in a Church now,
may peace and love be with you, Chow!

is not dead,
you are.
You can be revived,
through His son.
He died for you,
and me.
He died so that you don't have to be dead.

Love is strong,
His love is a bond,
He sent His only son,
to die for our wrongs.

i read today
that
sometimes
during
autopsies
they find ink
pooled
in the lymph
glands
of people
with
multiple
tattoos
and
i got
to
wondering
if they
opened
up
my
brain
would
it
be full
of the
ink
that
runs
through
my
veins
the ink
that
drips
and
seeps
into
my very
soul
aided
by
the word
i
inscribe
and
etch
upon
my
bones
the ink
that flows
in a
long
continious
scrawl
eminating
from
my
poets
pen ..