Poison Pen
Just breathe along to the pollutants of our time. Brains so scrambled can't even find a rhyme Maybe someday I'll make up for lost time. Creative minds are lazy and rarely amused Thoughts get hazy then I become confused. The words have escaped my poison pen for now, I know it will all come back to me somehow. They always do, God willing they always will. God willing my diction will break on through, Til I grow old and ill and it gets to painful to write. Blow my ashes out of a cannon like Hunter S did that night. Death is around the corner sometimes I fear, I'm getting older and older sometimes I wish it would just get here. Just breathe along to that sweet scent of nicotine. Throw morals to the wind and live my life as a libertine. Maybe someday I'll learn to clean up my act, But realising the consequence is something I always lacked. The words have escaped my poisoned pen this time. But I know someday it will return even more refined. ...