Life.
This poem was written during a period of my life where everything seem to have been going wrong.. little did i know, things would only go further down the hill…
They say that life is what you make of it,
but I cannot help but cry “i'm hurting more and more each day"
yet no one asks me why.
They say that life is what you make of it,
chin up and be a man.
like the men that took my innocence just because they can.
They say that life is what you make of it,
meanwhile I look around,
people running in circles burning their worlds to the ground.
They say that life is what you make of it,
take this pill with this drink,
and if you're lucky enough you may not be able think.
They say that life is what you make of it,
but really what's the point?
I cannot help but ask myself while I smoke this joint.
They say that life is what you make of it,
but is it a means to an end?
I guess Ill put my smile back on because life is just pretend.
-Zachary Louis Dopson.
February 11th 2022 10:30AM.
