We Die Soon

Bumps of ketamine. 

Go to bed real late.

It’s not what it seems,

Hell is a soulmate. 


Vodka made of tears,

Down a bunch of shots.

Chased by cavaliers,

Try not to get caught. 


Steal cash from her purse,

Momma will not know.

Hail the nearest hearse

Six feet I will go. 


How much for a G?

Is my soul enough?

Not a lot to me,

‘Cuz I’m always tough.


Never look both ways,

When crossing Jordan.

A prisoner always,

But you are your warden.  


Locking lips with death.

No one is immune.

Take a deep breath, 

And know we die soon. 

This poem is about: 


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