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I don't want to sink the boat

I'm filling my self with void serum The void is so loud there's voices but no body else can hear them I'm sleeping a lot and drinking venom I'm locked up, jailed in my own prison I'm losing my glow, I have no rhythm I don't even know why this poem is written I don't even know why I'm still living I don't know why I don't want to give in Why this life I'm given Why I'm sinning Why there's hell Why there's heaven Why every line I write worsens my condition Why am I asking too many questions I have a confession, I have depression... I'm tired of not being taken seriously I'm tired of waiting impatiently I'm tired of trying to shoot and rise aimlessly I'm tired of having a fighter's mentality but the body of a crook I'm tired of being shook every time I hold the pen and try to finish a book I hate the sad days I hate the days I sit in my room alone with a haze and gaze to the ceiling; thinking about different ways to cut the plays and end this drought and phase. Get up and raise the stakes; kick ass and take some names, reach the clouds and make some rains I want to admit, I've been sad for some time I'm only nineteen, I should be in my prime I want to stop constantly thinking about rhymes to write some lines and express my mind And no matter how much I grind I'll always fall behind In my room I sit in the corner I don't talk to my family cause I feel like a foreigner And when I die, I'll have a date with the coroner They'll talk about my evil, my demons and my failure Don't mistake this for a death note This is a poem, a dead man wrote I am going to jump, I don't want to sink the boat.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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