Look at us, there is nothing left.
We could have taken another route
But we would still end up here
Our reality, a chemical fried journey
To the fairyland that exists only in our mind.
Our body scarred by choice,
Or was it forced unto us?
Disowned and forgotten,
I tried to go back
But I was told I did not belong in their world
So I chose to sit here and take another trip
With that little piece of whatever running through my blood.
The good preacher came looking for me to save me from sin
But, he left. He could not stand the stench.
The social worker vowed to save me
I guess she got tired waiting for me to wake up.
They found me this morning.
Lifeless. "Just another loser", they said.
I made my choice.
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