Almost everyone is rasicts,
Not me,
My frieds are mixed,
Mexican and black,
They've always had my back,
And I got theirs.
My friends are like my family,
Kept close to my heart,
So it wont be hard to reach them.

But when noone gets where you're coming from,
You feel all alone,
A feeling I know all to well.
You feel like noone will ever understand.
Like you will always be alone,
Hiding from demons,
Either drugs or alchohol,
Either can kill you.

You can be told 'Marijuana' doesn't kill you,
But let me say this,
It kills the person on the inside,
Knowing that you're hurting your family.

Knowing that everytime you take a hit,
Another tear drop falls.
Rolling down a cheek,
Almost always mine.
I have an advantage over others,
I see what it does.
So not something I want


I'm gonna try my best,
To NOT end up like the rest.
I wont have bloodshot eyes,
And my life wont be a mess.

Don't get me wrong,
I love them all.
The things they do?
Not at all.

Listen or listen not to me,
For I am just a teen.
I understand more than most my age.
So hiding things just makes it worse.

07/21/2010

Posted on 11/05/2010
Copyright © 2024 Rebecca Bowen