damn, this one hits way too close to home. i feel like whoever u are writing about, i am her at this very moment. damn...
good shit. i felt this one in a way i don't usually want to feel them, but nowadays, i jus say, "fuck it." seems like i need to throw more salt in the wounds and grow stronger, as opposed to hoping against hope for shit that seems not to exist. nothing positive has been helping, so i'll gladly take a slice of reality and suffer through. appreciate your poem bro.
"Fuck the Bushes and the hicks up in the woods equipped wit hoods, return of Jesus and the media, we need to take a look at kids/On the block hollow wit a glock and no cause, coulda followed, but i lead, so i need that weed tomorrow..."- Heretic Skeptic