The feeling is hate,
Nothing more,
Nothing less,
In the air,
Blood splashes,
The bones crack,
The body is lifeless,
That's all a dream,
I wake up,
When you're a thug,
In order to make money you sell drugs,
And your best friend is your gun,
And the bullet is your slave,
That does and goes anywhere you want it to,
A bullet that kills a person,
That has someone worried,
That has someone like me,
That will destroy them,
And nobody didn't put a bullet through my brothers head,
But I can't get the fact that he was almost dead,
I'm just thinking in my head,
Sitting up in my bed,
I need to stitch up the hole in my body with some thread,
But it's too late because I'm dead.
YOU ARE READING
Lifeline
PoesíaDepression is something that some people don't know about. In this book it will be on depression and my journey with depression. (Honestly turns into a book of everything lol).
