Black Label

Black Label

I grip the bottle by the neck
and swallow the last bit of respect
I use to be a nice guy
use to have kind eyes
now I just live some kind of lie
some part of me wants to die
break down and cry
but I survive just to thrive
in my own self destructive hive
I smell of black label
and twisted fable's
my life's not stable
so I poor myself on the table
and I beat my soul until it weeps
the toll of crying sheep
the wolf that protects me in my sleep
this well runs deep
into the hell that I keep
so I take another shot of dilution
and I come to the same conclusion
it's been four years and I'm still
performing my own execution

--Z.Silas Herrera

Reviews

[October]

Wow.
This poem is amazing.
Great flow.
I love it.
-October

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

This is written well and so sad,, i know someone like this person very well..
and he is doing this exact thing you write of

so I take another shot of dilution
and I come to the same conclusion
it�s been four years and I�m still
performing my own execution

Good poem..

Chloe
xoxo