"apotite" poems
I hardly ever smoke
I hate to cough
I used to smoke everyday
In a attempt to find what I thought was lost
When I stopped I hated it but I made it
I never seemed to remember dreams or nightmares when I was high
I used to be able to sleep through the screams when I was high
Every sober day was filled with no apotite and sleepless nights
I loved my Mary so **** much
But when I was done we had to completely lose touch
While singing the blues I turned on the news
What I seen blew my mind I couldn't believe my eyes
My Mary committed suicide which was induced by the news her love was no longer mine
After that I lost my mind and chose liquor to pass my time
But something wasn't right so I put that the bottle and picked up a bag
The feelings I had have passed now when I smoke I don't feel as sad
When I think of Mary I don't ever get mad or feel bad
I smile and thank about the good times we had
She's high in the sky and once a week so am I
Heaven or hell neither could come I between the love that we had
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC