Addiction

These streets of shame where death malingers,
Where helpless fools let him befriend.
Smelled his stench; the odour lingers,
Of wasted lives and long dead friends.
The dark recesses where death is purchased,
In little bags of brown and grey.
Getting high is ever worshiped,
And death gets nearer, day by day.
I am: stained forever,
From this filth into which I fell.
Super cool and stupid clever,
I can’t escape this living hell.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s