John 16: 20 Poem by Yoyama Magwashu

It's hard to find me going to bed with dry, clear eyes,
It's always red eyes covered with warm salty water.
My pillows always give me a shoulder to lean on,
They are not judging me even though when I get up in the morning I left them dirty and wet.
In order for me to be able to close my eyes at night,
A sack should be rolled and smoke be in the air.
Weed is my new sleeping pills because my tired Brain can't produce sleep no more.
My poor soul has been begging me to buy a casket cause it's slowly dying inside.
Pouring my heart out it's something I will never do cause it's hard to trust.
I'm a strong person all of this I know will pass.
🤍