Rhythmatic Neccesaties

Drugs, lies, and petty crimes.
Living in a world of mimes.
Of a new breed,
Living off a new need.
It’s a simple reason,
Arnold Benedict… we call it treason.
Turn my back to the past,
Start a new path.
Live a new life,
Pain cuts deep like a knife.
Just keep walking,
The lips are moving but no talking.
It’s a simple rhyme,
Tick tock goes the clock telling time.
Every second a babies born,
A person dies.
Watching as a grown man cries.
The agony of suffering,
Demons inside keep wrestling.
A need to escape,
I have to get out of my mind before it’s to late.
The buzzer sounds,
It’s to late.