Idle hands,
Prey on me,
I've lost count of how many times,
They've damned me,
Masking all emotions,
Singling out the notions,
That I may have once had,
When I still felt human, And alive,
I was alive, And free,
With nothing tying me down,
I felt safe and sound,
And maybe it will take another week,
For me to get up off my knees,
And realize that I am slowly wasting away,
Twenty-four and my life's,
Already over,
Maybe that's why,
I'll never stay sober,
Substance abuse in my blood,
Inherited, without a choice,
A struggle I was born with,
That I'll carry, To the bitter end,
With this bottle in my hand,
I will decide...
Where this ends.
©jonharris7
J