Magic Mushrooms

My death is continuing - my pain if forever endless.
My heart used to be hanging on a sleeve,
But destiny ripped it off throwing back the not so lucky three.
I hide in my own sorrow back behind the invisible walls,
Down under the moon's faint glow,
With the mushroom heads and beer filled breath,
The hiding place of all non-believers becomes home to,
Crawling on needles to escape.
But continuing down the endless road that drops
And won't pick back up, life's dead.
Life's real, but who would believe a talking kite?
So high in the sky that trees
Call for death.