deepundergroundpoetry.com
Sinner
Another cigarette lit,
Smoke rolls off my lips.
I asked God why he made me such a sinner,
Why is my soul colder than a northern winter.
Another shot of bourbon,
I think I might have an addiction.
Not just to the whiskey or the nicotine,
But to this pain that tries to kill me.
Another man in my bed,
Images of the night before flash through my head.
As much I want to say I regret this,
I don’t because of my enduring loneliness.
Another morning,
And I’m still breathing.
The tears flowed down as I fell to my knees,
Asking God what does he want from me.
Smoke rolls off my lips.
I asked God why he made me such a sinner,
Why is my soul colder than a northern winter.
Another shot of bourbon,
I think I might have an addiction.
Not just to the whiskey or the nicotine,
But to this pain that tries to kill me.
Another man in my bed,
Images of the night before flash through my head.
As much I want to say I regret this,
I don’t because of my enduring loneliness.
Another morning,
And I’m still breathing.
The tears flowed down as I fell to my knees,
Asking God what does he want from me.
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