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All Cracked Up
There is a home

That I know
With critters walking down the wall
Through the blue to purple haze
Pipes in the kitchen
Butts on the rug
In the midst there is a sickness on the floor
Music on the radio at twenty and five
The six string lays up against the wall
Getting ready for the next gig
Have a thirst
Get the beer and wine
Have a hunger
Get the grass and the rock

We see the flashing lights
In the distance
Glad I'm not in the trap
Rehab did not work for them
They see God through a blur
Ashes fall to the floor
We must save the few
For even if the end is near
How will they know the illusion of
Life in the dust pan
Seeing the fragmented mentality
Of reality

Let us pray for the sinner
Let us pray for the judgment maker
Let us pray for God
For even if he/she needs help
This is the plane reality and
Let no one die for
There is a home
That I know

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Papalegba writes, “This poem is about a crack house not as bad as you see in the movies but still pretty bad. It is about Tony who is under mental health care and a user. The way that he's going he will most likely die with his medication and the rock and weed and whatever. This poem will be updated when he does die. I am just waiting for the people who can help to do the work that they get paid for.”