I walk down the filthy streets of the Bronx. <br />They want my money and they want my soul. <br />I pull a tissue from my pocket to wipe the soot from my burning eyes, <br />and 8 red pills fall to the ground, They sparkle under the filthy neon haze <br />I move on, unaware of my loss. <br />In an instant, a shadow darts from out of the darkness, claiming the booty and <br />disappearing into the filth. <br />Tonite, he may believe he is in ecstasy! <br />but in fact, he will never be constipated again.<br /><br />buried alive<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-liive-and-die-in-the-bronx/
