pleasures that kill.
same old room, graying walls
growing friends, fickle trends
i always wonder where we are driving to
a misery in the end our youth never sensed
because we were directionless
like the crimes we never plan
gambling our bodies like the colours in cards
never fails to bring me thrills
never thought it could kill
like fading colours of forgotten street art
while my soul loses its teenage feel
that dreaming is getting old
talking of stories they'd scoff impotent
with cigarettes that time our length of chill
wasting away in pleasures that kill.
----
substances for self-improvement.
like a key that fits into a hidden stash
unlocking the ability to be at your best
an overnight master of the human game
nothing will ever be the same
the increasing cheating that turned into abuse
a stronger backfire for a stronger magic i use
warnings of a bitter end to come
as the sins begin to catch up
the 7 faces still smile at me everyday
all because,
of the magic i used to play.
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