Saturday, February 22, 2014

Poetic Perspective (part 10) - Street Life

I smell like urine and feces slumped over in a corner
Aggressive and angry, when provoked I will harm you
I have no home and no one to love me
Now I use various substances in order to be happy

I hurt on the inside so I cry silently
Depressing thoughts make me speak out resentful and violently
I don’t want to hurt anyone so leave me alone
I feel empty on the inside so I escape some more

People judge me as they pass me, lying on the floor
I once used to be somebody, someone with dreams
Now I wake up in the morning, cold and alone, on this hard concrete street
I beg for change, unsure what I’ll use it for

I just need a little bit of money so I don’t hurt anymore
Substances help mostly
So I use it often, abusively
I don’t want to live but I don’t want to die

I don’t want to think about the past, I just want to escape reality and be
If I  
“O.D.” so be it, let me be free
No one will know I existed, no one will miss me
No one will even know I passed away and I’m now deceased

The thought saddens me but it’s a truth in my physical reality
I inject more poison so I can be free
Whether its booze, drugs, or nicotine
Now I pass out again on the streets
Repeating the same routine regularly

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