I’m Still Thinking
By Kevin Sheehan, Special Columnist
Regardless of weekly content, this column is designed to help others expand their way of thinking and promote creativity, empathy, and thought in general.
Let Me Tell You A Price
For the first time since I started writing for the newspaper, I will branch out into the poetry genre. Many of my friends know that I enjoy writing poetry, or even writings in the format of hip-hop songs.
This following piece was written as a hip-hop style writing, so keep in mind I have a beat in my head when I read it, and it flows a certain way. It might seem a little unrefined, but this is actually the first hip-hop style poem I had ever written. Nevertheless, please enjoy!
“Let Me Tell You A Price”
Let me tell you how to hate yourself.
Give up, brain has no more use, put your mind on a shelf.
Slowly drain away and start to neglect your health.
All because a guy passed you a force you felt.
Let me tell you how to fall prey to the latest fashion,
where chugging bottles and popping pills is your newest passion,
Take a few dollars and snort those pills that you are mashin’
Searching for another fix before you start crashing.
But listen to me when I tell you how deep this hell goes.
It will make you a shell of a person you don’t know.
Life non-existent in your eyes, dark with no glow,
Until you feel that rush, everything is so slow.
Listen when I tell you the price you will pay:
To have that rush of freedom, you become a slave.
For every time you wake up, it is another day,
to try to chase that dragon and make him stay.
Don’t be fooled, the price will include calamity,
You will lose your friends, then your family.
Everyone around can see you have gone mad,
but you’re so high thinking “It’s not that bad.”
Another added cost is delusion, you think you’re in control.
But you’re not, because drugs replace your soul.
Just like everything now in life, quitting just another goal
that you might never reach, your future, you stole.
So lay out this cost and let’s add up all the dollars.
The obvious pain you’ll go through doesn’t require a scholar, &
when you’re craving and you’re crying and you can’t help but holler
Taking uppers and downers like a speedballer.
But if this is really what you want, I’ll tell you what you need:
Save some pennies, and go buy new sheets
cause the bed that you’re making will make you sweat and bleed,
make you wish you weren’t born or at least tried to succeed.
Your only comfort and solace is this monster you feed,
trying to keep it fed so you give in to bad deeds,
Then your life becomes a drama that everyone else reads.
Let me tell how it feels to take a look,
search the depths of a mirror and only see a crook.
A liar, a thief, a selfish mess.
All for a dream you mistook.
The void you caused can be seen clearly in your eyes.
You will scream and curse, break down and then cry.
When you realize that in you is where hell resides,
or the worst thing: you’ll feel nothing inside.
But why should you listen to me? I am no prophet.
I’m just another guy, with every handle, I flew off it.
Sold my soul to the Devil for a few pills in my pocket,
still shocked that my life, I never lost it.
But I am grateful, for the chance to live clean every day,
trying to show others life don’t have to be that way.
I tell you truthfully when I say I believe and I pray:
I am not on this earth still because I wanted to stay.
Believe me when I tell you we have only scratched the surface
and I can go on all day.
When I tell you the price of just a little fun,
and exactly how much you will pay.
Let Kevin know what you are thinking. email@example.com
Kevin Sheehan once performed this piece live at a poetry event at Valencia College.