The old days
From sun up
to sun down
a bottle in my hand
and pills in my pocket
so fucked up
didn't care
people see me
think I'm crazy
the days where
I didn't give a shit
about anything
anyone
not even myself
so fucked up
in my own mind
I have no soul
I can still love
but it's hard
for my heart
shattered
It doesn't hurt anymore
I miss the old days
the bottle in my hand
[that was me]
I still have the pills
Thats me
and it'll stay that way
I'm fucking
sick
and
tired
of people trying to change me
It's not going to work
You don't like it
Get the fuck out
I don't give a shit
what you think
It's me
It's apart of me
Like it or not
Deal with it bitch!!!!
Comments
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nice!
nothing more needs to be said. (can i get an amen?) AMEN.
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GOOD STUFF
i read youre poem and i sense a wee bit of anger!
although you show youre really true feelings in a different way to, youre hurt.and i maybe not a bitch...
but im dealing with it to. thanks for writting
language: 5, rhythm: 5, subject: 5, tone: 5, form: 5.
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thanks.
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dramatic
I see this as a release of emotion to a person, of raw emotions rather than of structure and built, but yeah as you know that's how i write.
This is also hits to the soul, in how alot of people feel frustrated, with their lives and they dont' want to change. I empathize with your point a lot.
The stanzas are well stood for, the symbolic meaning of the pills being only locked up in a bottle only to be consumed later on and changed for the sake of someone else is a good metaphor.
Very interesting, thanks for the write!
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