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If I gathered my possessions, and laid then out to show..
You wouldn't be impressed, only time will make it grow..
But my time is never planned, I live one second to the next..
I think, pray, and hustle, all my moves are for the best..
There's things I really love, but I've pushed them far away..
I want them nowhere near, when my demons come and play..
I'll tell you all a secret, there's not a person that I know..
That doesn't walking around, with some demons in their tow..
My demons are pitch black, they're the worst kind that exsists..
I fight them when I can, but my demons they persist..
Friends think that they're above me, I must be made of trash..
Can't fathom that I'm human, they watched my life just crash..
I pretend that I don't feel, practice helped me hide my heart..
My face shows no emotion, but my soul falls right apart..
Even when I feel no pride, habits stick just like a stain..
I know how to fix it, but the needles scar my veins..
Many years have past now, my hands have purple scars..
I guess that it's what happens, when your addicted too black tar..
I know it...