Lips taste like concrete,
The winds form a scar.
Cuts feel so complete,
Sleeping on wet tar.
Living off one wheat,
Stomach like a nut jar.
Begging for red meat,
Outside the snack bar.
The man on the street,
Shadowed by a car.
Children trick or treat,
Burnt by a cigar.
Money.
The root of all evil,
But evil takes you far.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Souls
PoetryA collection of dark poems I have wrote in regards to various mental disorders, as well as heavy life problems including substance abuse, violence and poverty.
