I can understand the world is too much.
Balancing more than your head on your neck.
You feel like you need a hit or a rush,
To be a person rather than a speck.
If only you knew you are beautiful,
Without getting by with a little help.
The anxiety you hide is dreadful.
Worse is the pain you inflict on yourself.
Just know things that dwell in the darkest caves,
Find a way to develop their own light.
You are a master and you are a slave.
Which one will you be through the lonesome night?
When you are falling into bed be sure,
It is your bed and not the cold hard floor.
Sixteen years in the cracked skin sun
Spewing out curses and pointing a gun
Red dust on her cuffs and flies up her nose
High from the bong made with the garden hose
Sick of heat an’ rust an’ burnt up grass
Good for nothing Father and his lazy ass
Drunken Mother who’s hardly at home
Nagging Nan never leaving her alone
Out there, everybody had a problem
The inability to leave the boredom
The subsequent irritation and regular abuse
Hitting the casino and hitting the booze
The cycle went on like the summer months
Despite her hopes and nightly stunts
Sneaking out to fade like the moon
Only to be caught like a stray and beaten til noon
She sent a reckless bullet to a cawing crow
That took off laughing at her hardened face below
Unsure if she intended it to die
Or just wanted to see it flee to the sky