Drug Addict's Prayer

Fairly straightforward with content.

Your head throbs.
Your stomach feels the same.
You know exactly what you need.

You look around.
There's no way to be seen.
SNATCH.
Your heart is full of greed.

You dial your favourite number,
And take a little walk.
Though you know, once you're there,
You'll never be able to stop.

Open the bag.
Take a big, long sniff.
The smell just makes you drip.
Drip.. Drip.. Drip..

Can't wait to get home!
It won't be too long.
Its gonna be such a rush,
This just won't be enough.

Walk in, look around.
Everything is sound.
Close the door, settle in.
Let the fun begin.

You know what they'd say if they knew;
"Those white crystals on your book,
They won't do you no good."
But what do they know?

They can't tell me whats right,
Or whats best for me.
I know what I'm doing,
I'll show them, you'll see.

You dump out your bag.
And surrender to its seduction.
The small, slender red tube
Is your object of affection.

"Gotta chop it up nice,
Gotta make it look clean.
No chunks it my nose,
Not today, not for me."

Its only a gram,
Not enough to do harm.
You make one big line,
And thank God its yours.

"Thank you dear lord,
You provide me with love.
And I thank you, dear lord,
For creating this drug"

So you stick the red to your nose,
And away you go.
Its loud, and it burns,
But its worth it in turn.

The rush, like no other.
You want to run and play.
You can't quite sit still,
And talk, talk away.

But the blood drips from your nose,
This wasn't supposed to happen!
You lay down on the bed,
You know you can't help it,
You know that s**t happens.

Your life is flashing before you.
Surely, this is it.
You don't regret a single moment,
But if you make it, you'll quit.

As you're drifting away,
You wonder what they'll think.
"Here's my dead body,
I'm sorry I had to sink."

You were laying in a pool of blood,
When your father came home.
He cried all night,
You were just fifteen years old.

Reviews

[Chris]

Imagining is a potent form of dreaming-you-know, Reality is a life experience you may or may not return from ...learning - well, that's the breath you take after

[Coyote Poetry]

A sad poem. I lost four brothers to drugs and alcohol. A lonely death.
"You were laying in a pool of blood,
When your father came home.
He cried all night,
You were just fifteen years old."
Drugs lead to a dead-end. Thank you for sharing the excellent and sad poetry.
Coyote