PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

If i could play until my fingers bled,

just to stick in your head,

i'd play till my wrist muscles were dead,

just to make better memories for my head,

multiple times drunk but only two stick,

light up my mind; i'm a blunt, you the bic,

and on the days when i'm feeling sick,

you'd be there to calm me down a bit,

on the days you're sad or down in the dumps,

tell me how high and watch me jump,

felt so much towards you, now it's stumped,

our tree has been chopped down, now only a lump,

still only one has been my constant dream girl,

making me wake up each morning unsure,

whether i travel the right path in this world,

or stumble off like a man that rides the train and needs to hurl.