My old friend has just gone mad
seems his sanity was all he had
little white pills kept his sickness at bay
and now I'm unsure if he'll live through the day.
twas a matter of time before he lost his mind
he's searched everywhere but can't seem to find
anything that makes him feel alive inside
and I'll awake tomorrow to find that he's died.
it's a tragic event
and all time spent
trying to make this life count
will surely seem to barely amount
to anything quantitative
and so in this poem i pray
my old friend will live another day
if for no other reason than to bum a cigarette.