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Crackhead

You’re chasing it,
swear it’s chasing you...
Called by that one hit wonder.

You get all bent,
Money’s spent
and wonder where twenty years just went.

Your home is gone
You’re all alone
Your kids are all but grown

No gym in sight
You look a fright
Only skin and bones.

I’ve been on many diets
But never one like this
Your teeth fall out
you look like shit
and smell like week old piss.

You weigh a buck,
But what the fuck
You say,
“I’m still alive.”

For real?...

Skin so gray, just like a corpse...

Alive?...
Now, that’s a lie
Walking dead to your own funeral,
but too damned high to die.

You wished you’d never tried it
At least that’s what you say
But then you get that feeling
And it’s off again to play.

Stealing every thing in sight
While breaking mama’s heart
Demons all around you
Tearing your soul apart.

Busted jaw
Gunshot legs
with no clear end in site,
Rehab’s just a joke to you
You’d rather hit that pipe.

That crackhead’s dreamy dope
That milky creamy smoke
Now you can’t recall the
days when high meant just a toke.

Deafened ears
to all my fears of future
wasted years

Your foolish side,
Stubborn male pride
You weren’t hearing me
Now every day I hope and pray your spirit
will be free.

I stopped worrying long ago
Started wishing for your death
There’s nothing left but a shell
of your former self.

It’s sad to say, I long for the day,
when your life has ceased
Twenty years he’s enslaved you
death row prisoner of this beast.