HUNTER S THOMPSON
suicide renders years of therapy impotent
they go somewhere far from being a star
become desperate enough to think
the murky unknown has to be better
stand in wonder when the rich and famous
let their hands grow traitorous
a life you can only dream of
finds a desperate murk to lose themselves in
worth by proximity to god
just ain't working for them
they must feel there's no worth
in the persistent pains of an average day ?
they shine like beacons spewing blackness into the daylight
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