Through the smoke, Smokewriter [my reading book .txt] 📗

mother’s on the pipe, and her daddy’s never home

Felling unwanted, with a lot of pain

She turns to the lonely life of cocaine

Looking like a stick, she starts turning tricks

And ends up in the bed of a real prick

He was dealer

Let her have as much as she wanted as long as he could feel her

He’d beat her black and blue

She’d always blame it something like I fell or got the flu

One day she had enough

Thought this life style was to rough

He got tired of her complaining

And her weight was gaining

So he went into her room to make her dead

But he was too late; on plate was note that said

“There is nothing left of me so I will hang myself and finally be free.

Of you

The one who used to be beat me black and blue

 

Never to be seen again

Not by the world, family, or friend

Why choose something that will be your end and never be seen again

 

 

A kid, who doesn’t feel safe in his own home

Who eats his lunch all alone

The mom, sit in the lap of luxury

The dad, only with stripper in his is he a bit cheery

It’s hard to have love let alone respect

For parent who forget your name, that is called neglect

And on top of that

He is teased for being fat

He gets tired of the pain

And decide his school is to blame

So he steal his daddy’s gun

And decide to have his fun

In a trance, like a dream

He shoots inside the school and all you hear is collective scream

As the shots were spent

He realized now nothing was left

Holding the gun as the cops arrived

Not caring if he survived

Got shot in a hailstorm of bullets

All the bullets hit true

When his parent were told they asked “who?”

 

Never to be seen again

Not by the world, family, or friend

Why choose something that will be your end and never be seen again

 

Real

You try to speak

But the words keep

Getting stuck in your mind

And you’re trying to find

The time

To tell her how you feel

But if you do your afraid that it won't be real

I mean how can you say the world reflects off your smile

How do you say your mine, but only for a while?

I believe that relationships are more complex

The an what they say in magazines and dirty sex

It is partnership, a  unison

Do I convey what I feel within?

Or do I continue to suffer

and let the one I like be the buffer

Imprint

Text: www.ehdwalls.com
Publication Date: 11-22-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
to all of those stil blind.