Simon Mack

(London)

The End


No friends,
No life,
No self respect.

No trends,
No wife,
No kids to protect.

No will,
No soul,
No guts inside.

Big chill,
Huge hole,
Devoid of pride.

Run far,
Life's path,
Down into hell.

Tore scars,
Devil's hearth,
Ring reaper's bell.

No more,
Mind cracked,
Life's lie revealed.

Meds whore,
Brain hacked,
Drugged haze conceals.

Pills fade,
Words breath,
To no avail.

Downgrade,
A soul's death,
Toward I sail.

Submitted: Tuesday, April 02, 2013

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  • David Wood (5/1/2013 12:45:00 PM)

    A lovely poem that you have to read quickly to get the full benefit. It rhymes well too. Well done. A good write (Report) Reply

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