Too Many

too many nights

spent black out drunk

too many days

left in a funk

 

too many years

spent wondering why

too many tears

will never dry

 

flip back through the pages

and I shake my head

ignored all the sages

I’ve made my own bed

 

and now I lay dying

for something that’s real

my heart has grown cold

I no longer feel

 

I lay here, I’m crying

these chapters foretold

theres no use in trying

I’ve grown far too old

 

my grey hair is thinning

this body’s in pain

the demons are winning

they’ll never be slain

 

the bottles near empty

and so is my tank

for this I have only

my own self to thank

 

this page is now ending

this chapter is too

with scribbles on paper

this book is now through

 

 

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