When I looked at the fork in the road,
There was a point of where I returned
All of the signs were pointed to home,
Where I rejoiced in the morning

If the feeling of ecstasy is feeling elated,
It was a pill that was difficult to swallow
I can only assure the distant of viewers
I've been tripping enough to feel the dirt

From the tips of the grass,
Straight from its roots
Where the flowers were blooming,
Piercing my skin like the sharpest blades

The boy that existed in me is no longer,
My innocence's marching towards
The path to avoid; but then again
He'll be crossing the junction

In these days, I walk in the mirror and see
What drugs and medicines have made me
My skeleton's about denser than ever
I admit my decisions weren't clever

My way of living's still a bit of a mess;
My addiction to pills was a different test
Was I entering Heaven, or alive in a bed?
Was my pleasure a blessing?

No, it was a weapon disguised

© William Robert Death

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