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The stories you tell me,
It gives me nightmares.
You’re such a good kid,
Such an amazing friend.
But what I cannot comprehend,
What I cannot wrap my head around
Is why you surround yourselves with trash,
Low-lives, the part of society that’s pushed aside,
You’re better than them.
So much better.
And I’m scared, so scared
That when I graduate, when I leave
That you’ll succumb to the pressure,
“Just one smoke”,
“Just one drink never hurt anyone”.
Lies, all lies.
But I won’t be there to tell you no,
To remind you to not become like them.
Otherwise you’ll get that smoker’s cough, harsh and low, slicing through your wind pipes
The smell of beer will be on your lips, a ruined liver as proof
I do not mean to say this as though you’re the type of person, who easily becomes addicted,
Who isn’t strong enough.
That’s not what I’m meaning to portray.
I just want to know that when I come back, someday
That you’ll be waiting for me,
I want to know that you’re here to stay.