Poem 11-Escape. (Drug abuse)

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The lighter's a trigger

I load my gun

And swallow the bullets

Straight to my lungs

With every drag

And hit I take

My thoughtless mind

Will come awake

No more mommies leaving

Or daddies crying

Just coughing and heaving

And careless flying

I guess it's living

I guess I'm dying

And if I'm not

I'm surely trying

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