You pop them pills
you can't even pay the bills
you only think of yourself
you have 3 kids, who care care for themselfs
you come home drunk from work
you lurk around, head straight to your room to do more pills
you don't even try to get help
what kind of person wouldn't want to
who are you?
do you not think things through?
you say your gona stop
but ill i see is you shoting up
more and more
til that one day when fate came and took you away
kids in foster care
where they dont bare a chance at a normal life
moving from place to place
changing schools every couple of months
getting into trouble
following your foot steps
til one day when fate will come and take them away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem