Dead
The funeral starts, the people cry
and yet I feel so cold.
They look at me, I wonder why?
These stares are getting old.
One by one, they talk to me
They say to rest in peace.
I feel so trapped, I'm not free
and yet I'm wrapped in fleece.
I try to cry, I try to scream
and yet I'm never heard.
It's my soul, I can't redeem.
I never speak a word.
They lay me down, into this box.
My family wonders why
the man above, dumps the rocks
why did I have to die?
I worked so hard, to do what's right
I screwed it up with Meth
so here I am, I lost the fight.
I created my own death.
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