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Dec 2017
It‘s not what we ought,
Never was it sought,
To bring out a thought,
That you would get caught,
By the hands that fought,
In the night and fog,
On sunny days - drought.
Then you get knocked out,
Coffee in the mouth,
Then a single froth,

It’s caffeine.

An overdose.

You’re dead.
a poem I made on Twitter, might as well share it here as well.
Written by
Cedric  23/M/General Trias, Cavite, PH
(23/M/General Trias, Cavite, PH)   
  650
   Miss Ana
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