Cheyenne

Sometimes we sink in.

Someimes we all.

Somehow we are consumed

For feling so small.

Sometimes we are weak.

And, sometimes, that's okay.

But then our vision becomes bleak,

And we can no longer parlay.

Sometimes we think.

Maybe a little too much.

So we fall back to our addiction.

And use it as our crutch.

Sometimes we feel this is the only way,

Since our life doesn't coincide

With how we want to feel today.

So we grab for those pills,

Those needles and joints.

And we act as if those things

Will prove us a point.

Sometimes the things

That wish we were dead

Keep us alive

And make us think otherwise instead.

We all can sit here,

And wallow and cry.

But only you can make this change.

Are you willing to try?