She smokes too many cigarettes, she
takes too many pills;
she tries her best to ease the pain,
but slowly her hearts being killed.
She awakens every morning, another
day of sorrow she'll face;
so she lights up a cigarette, pops
a few pills, in hopes of enduring her
day.
When the pills take effect, as they
usually do, she feels much stronger then;
she's ready to simply get through the day,
without wishing her life would end.
For she can't seem to face the life
that she lives, the misery is too much
to bare;
and the only comfort she has is stored,
in a bottle of pills somewhere.
But she knows this is not the answer,
she's only covering up the pain;
like an umbrella on a stormy night,
that catches all of the rain.
Yet how would she ever be able to
survive, if she had to deal with her
sorrow;
she's not ready to work through the
pain on her own, let alone face another
tomorrow.
Her past is filled with bad memories,
and the present is full of no hope;
so she takes another one of her pills,
her best friend, that helps her to cope.
Ruth warren
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/survival-4/
