My sister died when I was 17 years old,
That was the night that I became cold,
After this night, the weed wasn't enough,
I needed something more, things were just too rough,
So I took a shot and snorted a line of cocaine,
And later that night I thought about pulling a Kurt Cobaine,
I became addicted, and this went on for years,
Yet still nothing could stop my tears,
And now I'm not sure how long I can hold,
I try to keep going, stay strong and be bold,
But I know, even with this confession,
I will never ever beat my depression.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 5:57pm on Dec 26, 2024 via server WEBX1.