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From 9-5
Author: Dean Morris

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As i lay on my bed
i begin to say
all of the things that i wish would go away

all of the wrong in my life
everyone thats involved
its as if my life is slowly being dissolved

i put my thinking cap on
and begin to think
how i could do better, and not live in this house that stinks

but of course comes along a little thing called money
something i don't have
its something that people always take from me

i work form 9-5 and still don't make enough
I'm slowly losing hope
but I'm never giving up

under no and circumstances am i to give in
the pain and struggles are not going to crumble me
my heart is pure, clean of sin

from time to time my mind tends to play tricks
I'm kicking and punching my own self
telling it to stop and call it quits

then it snaps me back to reality
puts my head back on straight
realizing how i need to change my life, and prevent my own fate

i know I'm winning and complaining
telling you things i shouldn't be saying
but who cares, honestly, but now your debating

whether or not that you believe in me
just look into my eyes
and you'll be able to see

that my heart is pure
but packed full of pain
these little things are driving me insane

that fact that i am broke
don't even have a car
yet i waste my money away on smokes

killing my insides with every puff that i take
I'm addicted to it now
i must be dreaming, i need to awake

snap out of this dream and back to reality
kill all of the negativity around me
and boost up my morality

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Comments on this poem/writing:

anonymous (207.200.116.195) -- Saturday, March 11 2006, 09:08 am

Nice poem

Yep! 5 bucks a pack can add up to alot of money. Especially when you don't have any. A hard thing to quit. Enjoyed your poem. Tried chewing gum? Thanks Dean, good luck in quitting.
 
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