Addicted with life.
Addicted with sleep.
What happened to me
That made me weep?
Addicted with murder.
Addicted with guns.
It was like
I was addicted with drugs.
It may not seem right.
It may not seem good.
But I was good
Of where I stood.
But now I'm gone,
And now I vanished.
Now inside
I'll just be perished...
//I didn't know. My mom just thinks I'm addicted to this phone and shit. I could of this could be an escape hard to explain...
YOU ARE READING
Poems From The Mind
PoetryThese are poems I write. I may throw in a quote or two, or an authors note, but some will be poems. And possibly most of them for @-SebastianMichaelis- .... Yeah. Well, enjoy!
