A rush of air released so quick
The cough rises in my throat.
I've done this act so many times
The high's my sea, the rig my boat.
Disappointment creeps, its on its way
I'm always wanting more.
Every time I start to reach this point
My brain is dead, my arms are sore.
Effort is the only thing we ever have to show.
Our mouths are dry, our pockets bare
Our veins are shot, our lives not fair.
We reach ourselves a new set low.
Meth this drug that kills our hurt
Causes us much more than pain.
It runs our lives, makes us feel fine
Takes us closer to the dirt.
The day will come, near or far
When we open up our eyes
And see the blackness dope has caused
And how our dream it dies.
©velvetink
V