by Chris
I’m reading a drawing just tryin’ to stay busy, this white room is shrinking I’m getting dizzy, I’m tired of waiting,
contemplating and debating on the next thing to do, with all of these guards, I’m trying not to be rude,
sitting thinking ‘bout my family and momma,
I hate to say it but the woman’s just drama,
all that woman does is yell and scream,
I hope she wakes up from her dream, starving herself washing it down, she drinks herself so she don’t have to frown, I
try not to think about it so much,
it starts with a little and ends with a bunch, then I can’t sleep, without her on my mind,
I hate the fact that I worry all the time, I’m not looking forward to the day that I call, that my mom died with her hands on a bottle.