Poem -

Stole My Gun

Stole My Gun

I would shoot your soul,
But they stole my gun,
And stripped me of my pride.
Now all I have’s the sun.

I killed my concerns,
With a rolled up cancer stick.
So dizzy and torturous,
That I thought it would do the trick.

I wish I was less concerned with my appetite and health.
Drugged up my whole body thinking that would bring me wealth.

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