Poem, Stuck

Sex isn't sexy any more,
I've lost my taste for booze.
Pot no longer appeals to me,
What else can I loose.

My back is getting worse
these days
I smoke two packs a day
Leavings not an option
and so
I'm forced
to stay.

The student loans will be owed soon
I'm living in a shelter
It seems to me
my whole damn life
is always
Helter skelter.

At least I can read,
at least I can write,
and sometimes
carry a tune.
And no matter
what the wait
at least
I'll be
dead soon.

I see now why
the old don't smile
with death and pain
ingrained.

I don't know how
the other's live
with killing
their own brain.