Keep being high

Soon you’ll die

Your family will cry

You think its a fly

But its a needle

Its not bugs in your skin

Your stabbing yourself with a pen

Watching football

Running down the hall

Making the call

Your going to fall

Killing yourself slowly

Fire glowing

Drugs flowing

your knowing

Cars towing

Your bleeding

Leading

And reading

The cuts

The huts

You’re dead

Life fled