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He wished he could lose life, found it hard to take
Using any and every drug to get far from it
Popping pills, smoking crack, sipping Arsenic
I know it sounds bad but this is just the start of it
Just the start of it, like a starters’ kit
And in his mind there was nothing harder than

Seeing your own mother die by the drugs you gave her
Despair was in his mouth, a taste from which he savored
In a house of sorrow and regret was his neighbor
He always thought things would get greater later

He even missed her dirge out of honor you see
Said there was no way he could view her corpse honorably
He was in pain, obviously
It was so evident that even the blind could see

Then he had to pause
In this world of scars
We’re all stressed with these 3 R’s
Remorse, Regret, and Resentment

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