What my Mother Would Say at my Funeral
401 Words
since he was born he moved too fast
Chasing something that was next to him
He expirienced it very little in his past
it burned too fast, and was soon dim
He ran after it so fast id lost track
He'd be behind couch then in the kitchen
Soon he'd move more picking up the slack
Go from sitting next to you to in a drug den
In his last year of life I saw him 10 times
He chased that thing all over the place
Spent his money so he begged for dimes
And never realize his search was a waste
He looked for it in all the wrong places
First in bottles & blunts then inside rigs
If he wasn't high he would just pace
Forgot the little things dreamt big
Maybe it grew in dirt or was chemical
Maybe it flooded in your veins via needle
Plucked and plunged when it got dull
Dug and hidden away like a weasle
He saw many other obtain it through life
And wondered why he couldn't find it
He went through much trial and strife
And to no avail was his candle lit
He still felt joy watching others find it
At his worst he was destructive and mean
But creativity and love sat inside him
But his work changed as a teen
Adult things presented at a young age
That made him think the world was dark
Too young he felt trapped in a cage
And to be free he slept in the park
Homeless alone terrified by himself
He chased that feeling once again
Angry and bitter at the cards he was dealt
In his arm he put dope to mend
The needle was there at the end
Not me or you or anybody else
It's hard to tell the message that sends
Except the next sad kid needs more help
He ran so fast avoiding potholes
But in the end couldn't avoid the pit
Left to rot I'm the dirt with the moles
Thinking nobody ever gave a shit
Looking at this room he was wrong
What he was looking for he already had
It wasn't in rigs straws or bongs
It was in the family and friends he had
His long journey was to find peace
Happiness serenity you could call it
Sadly he couldn't afford life's lease
And in a grave my baby boy now sits
- Writer
