humanity smoked up in a gravity bong

[YDK]

A letter to my former self, before the wealth; greed
don't ever ignore your health its the only thing you need.
See, for years i've known that i've been becoming inflicted
addicted to scripts learning the ways of the wicked
You couldn't imagine even when my story's depicted
So my story fades, and i wonder if it even existed.
I'm lifted, getting high again letting the silence in
Ignoring violence, crying, and poppin pills like vitamins.
Biding my time until my mind finds that i'm fine
Breaking my back working till my spines realigned.
Worrying causes cancer well this tumor's malign,
I'll snort pain killers till that rumors benign
and I'm alone again resting in the tomb of my mind.
Signs of anarchy barking at the thought of me; dread
I've fought for too long to not be prepared to be dead
I've written too much not leave a note to be read,
So this will be the last letter I'll ever write to you; zed.
Nobody will remember what we wanted at heart,
unless we spill our soul before we ever depart.
A spark of insanity mixed with vanity; smart.
And what i leave you with now, humanity; Art.

"But we're not humanity, we're just one culture - one culture out of hundreds of thousands that have lived their vision on this planet and sung their song.”

We as humans will fade but let our legacy never die
and let the earth forever sing our song and remember;
we tried.