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Methamphetamine Abuse Poems
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Feb
04Sweet Disorder
Snorting the powder, though you swore to stop.
Rolling on a high, as you drive by the cops.
Chancing your life, like death you'll soon hit.
And your life in jeopardy, you seem to omit.
Fear of hitting bottom, the tears fall from your eyes.
You bleed of addiction, but the world ignores your cries.
For they don't feed the hungry, that lives for their obsession.
That'd be crediting those, who haven't yet changed their direction.
With all the pain this obsession brings, it seems you'd have realized by now.
That your hunger causes death, someway somehow.
But you continue to roll, each time you're high needing more juice.
It's becoming too much of a habit, that your soul's turning loose.
Letting go of your life, for the pain's too strong.
And a change in habit's too hard, for it's been a habit too long.
Fear is still exerted, converging from up to down.
For once you're pricked with addiction; you're left with no way out.
You struggle to breathe, but you're left with images unknown.
You block the evil, out but without it you're on your own.
Powder still being snorted; drive bys still on the high.
The bottoms near ahead and your life in jeopardy is no lie.
This addiction has left you bleeding, with no limit when to cease.
So you continue leading life, to this obsession your soul to keep.
Tiffany
