Calloused hands held the substance,
The thought made him self-destructive,
But he was holdin onto the only thing he ever fell in love with,
Always wishin he never withheld his judgement,
Because the withdrawal got him feelin like a sweltering oven,
Spark the lighter, Hold it to the dirty skin till he felt it bubblin,
No reason to start, but to him it just felt productive,
Seems like good decisions were only made when he was dealt instructions,
Too many days passed by trying to regain healthy functions,
The time was lost, there was no grasping the past mistakes,
Tried talking it out but no-one could ever damn relate,
The frustration was fading, Erased all of his damaged states,
and rose from the ashes with plans of getting a family raised,
Those dark days seemed further away now that his path was straight,
Because no one but himself could help his mentality change,
The dreams are there, all he had to do was stand and chase,
He made it happen, Always wondering was it hard work or was it fate?
The bright light at the end of the tunnel was always there to stay,
Even if the actions happened a little late...
His sunrise awaits.
|