Another day, another battle
another one that she cant handle.
She's out of her stash
and all out of cash.
She's breaking down now,
and she doesn't know how
she'll obtain her next supply
so she can have some pretty little lines.
She knows this is the life she chose,
those lines are going up her nose
everyday and every night
she fears that something isn't right.
She does some things she normally wouldn't do
it's nuts the things she'll do when she has to
just for a few of those little blue pills,
she hates the cravings, they really kill.
She thinks to herself "this is getting old"
but "she's no more than this" is all she's ever been told
these dark feelings fill her mind,
but if she just had her pretty little lines
she would be free
she would feel ease
and she would finally
be at peace.
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