three years,
three years gone.
i'm zoned,
way out,
of this galaxy.
i'm not here,
i'm far away.
so don't come,
knocking on my door.
hey, happiness!
where are you?
sadness and death have already come,
knocking on my door.
i only let ****** come in,
and take control,
but it's you i need.
because you see,
for three years,
i haven't had you near me.
you died.
hey, happiness!
listen to me.
i need you,
come on over.
you left me,
with 'precious' money.
but for all the money,
all the estates,
you left me with,
it still hasn't,
brought you back to me.
if you aren't going to come,
i'm going to meet you.
*hi.
Okay so I wrote this poem based on Jim Morrison's longtime girlfriend: Pamela Courson. She went a bit insane after he died and eventually overdosed on ****** three years after. This was basically me trying to interpret what I think would've been her thoughts.