The Bong

Livin' life to it's fullest, partying it up all day, and all night long

Till one day you wake up and see that you were so sadly wrong

The stench of your life had been masked by the smoke from your bong

And now awake, you find yourself in a place where you can't belong

As the haze that had corrupted your mind for too many wasted years

Slowly starts to dissipate and as your vision gradually clears

You see people you thought you might've known, from a life so long ago

Friends you once held dear, have become strangers you don't know

All around you, life is being lived with ostensible happiness

And you see that your own life, is a frightening, desolate mess

The face that's reflected in your mirror can't possibly be you

How could life have passed by so quickly, it simply can't be true!

Your pride, your self, your life, the very essence of your soul

Have faded to a shadow, and you've mysteriously grown old

Too old to come back from the place where your secrets'd been hid

While life passed by without you, while you were being just a "kid"

The piteous excuses that you conveyed to those who once had cared

You believed had covered up the fact that your senses'd been impaired

A river slowly grew between yourself and those you called your peers

For, as valiantly they tried to help, you glibly mocked their fears

Thus; why bother with the struggle to once more fit within the mold

Your spirit's grown too weary, your body too tired, too old

Why bother wear the mask you'd donned to try to fool your peers

Why bother veil the fact that your eyes are now filled with tears

Too many years to count have passed, and your vices own your soul

So why bother deal the cards again; in fact, why not just fold...

Rosevina Halley

November 22, 2006