so this is just somthing i wrote. its not really poetry, but i want to post it anyway. so here it is
21 cigs under a log
from all those lonely nights
why am i so different
am i different
or is everyone else?
read my confessions on a blog
along with all my sights
when did i give up
have i given up
or did everyone else?
they've given up on me
my future was so bright
what the fuck happened
did somthing happen
or is this a new me?
i dont like it,
but ill get by
with my pack of cigs.
Peace
And So It Goes (2014)
9 years ago
4 comments:
Hmmmm, not sure how to react. I hope you're not smoking again.
Spys, we're all different. In so many ways. Everyone, whether they like it or not is a minority in their own way. Your future is still bright, why should it be anything different?
Seems a bit down for you. Maybe a low day?
Peace <3
Jay
Hey kid... I didn't give up on you. I hope you know that... I've just been a little down since they nuked my blog, and trying to deal with the loss of that and the issues that popped up with my Godson and others in my life at the same time...
You might want to check your email account. I explained some of this a while back, and never got a reply. luv, U.T.<3
Tman, i completly understand. i just checked my emails and dont see any, but its not a big deal, i really do understand.
Peace!
There's something so comforting about smoking. It consumes all the senses, the taste and the touch of the unlit cigarette on your lips, the smell of that first cigarette of the day, the crackle as you take a drag, the curl of smoke in the morning sunlight. Then there's the oral satisfaction, something in your mouth when you are feeling alone, and all the little rituals of smoking that occupy your hands and your attention and take your mind off things just for a moment or two.
A pity it kills you.
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