Array ( [sid] => 41256 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Drugs [time] => 2004-04-01 02:05:33 [hometext] => is it worth it [bodytext] => Life Of A Junkie

He was tall, dark and slim
Yet there was no future for him
His eyes they bulged, his nerves they tingled
His feelings were mixed, for the crowd
With whom he mingled
He used to be good, made no mistakes
Until that night, he couldn't remember, when
He went for a drink, but got a score
And landed in bed, with a cheap rate whore
That very next morning, he thought he had fun
He said to himself "My lifes just begun"
That night he got ready, money in pocket
Went for a hit and couldn't care, how he got it
And when he did, life was so much better, he thought
But now looking back, his eyes fill with tears
He knows he is hooked, his mind's filled with fear
His arms are like pin cushions, his veins like rivers
His body is weak, it shakes and it quivers
He needs some stuff, but has no dough
His life drains away, very slow
********************************************************
Sheep

The syringe is loaded
The needle is bared
The vein has risen
The boy is scared
His friends are all doing it
Having fun
This will not hurt
Not just this one
He's just a sheep, following the pack
He'll end like them all, hooked up on smack
He'll not know what's hit him Until it's too late
Then he'll have reached, his sheepish fate
********************************************************
His Room

The room was buzzing, aroma filled air
The light was shining, a constant glare
The pictures were changing, constantly differ
The carpet was flowing, just like a river
Objects were melting, reforming again
This is his room, it's more like a den
To the world outside, he is oblivious
To the room inside, he is submissive
In his room, he smokes and he sniffs
In his room, he really lives
In his room, he is constantly high
And in his room, he'll eventually die
********************************************************
Friend Or Foe

Friend or foe, high or low
In your system, fast or slow
Out of your mind, by popping pills
Giving you feelings, imaginary thrills
Making you hot, making you cold
Making you weak but making you bold
You're in a rut, you can't escape
Friend or foe, making you shake
You're needing more, you can't get enough
Friend or foe, is killing you off
********************************************************
Glue

Got to get a buzz
Got to get high
Got to get a buzz
I'd like to learn to fly
I'd like to be normal
Breath fresh air
But it's stuck to my lips
Stuck to my hair
It's in a tin
It's in a bag
It's up at my mouth
I'm starting to gag
It's in my lungs
It's in my head
It killing my brain cells
Soon I'll be dead
********************************************************
The Trip

The voyage was long, full of twists and bends
With colours all around, starting to blend
Images were blurring, changing, constantly differ
This was his trip, like floating down a river

His thoughts were lost, somewhere, nowhere
An empty mind, dull eyes and a blank stare
He was in the clouds, this was his high
This was his trip, like floating in the sky

His speech was slow, in fact, he made no sound
As with a crash, he hit the ground
Down he kept going, until he could go no more
His final trip buried him, in the devils core
[comments] => 3 [counter] => 160 [topic] => 13 [informant] => parkman [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 11 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Drugs


Drugs
Date: Thursday, 1st April 2004 @ 02:05:33 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry


Contributed By: parkman

Life Of A Junkie

He was tall, dark and slim
Yet there was no future for him
His eyes they bulged, his nerves they tingled
His feelings were mixed, for the crowd
With whom he mingled
He used to be good, made no mistakes
Until that night, he couldn't remember, when
He went for a drink, but got a score
And landed in bed, with a cheap rate whore
That very next morning, he thought he had fun
He said to himself "My lifes just begun"
That night he got ready, money in pocket
Went for a hit and couldn't care, how he got it
And when he did, life was so much better, he thought
But now looking back, his eyes fill with tears
He knows he is hooked, his mind's filled with fear
His arms are like pin cushions, his veins like rivers
His body is weak, it shakes and it quivers
He needs some stuff, but has no dough
His life drains away, very slow
********************************************************
Sheep

The syringe is loaded
The needle is bared
The vein has risen
The boy is scared
His friends are all doing it
Having fun
This will not hurt
Not just this one
He's just a sheep, following the pack
He'll end like them all, hooked up on smack
He'll not know what's hit him Until it's too late
Then he'll have reached, his sheepish fate
********************************************************
His Room

The room was buzzing, aroma filled air
The light was shining, a constant glare
The pictures were changing, constantly differ
The carpet was flowing, just like a river
Objects were melting, reforming again
This is his room, it's more like a den
To the world outside, he is oblivious
To the room inside, he is submissive
In his room, he smokes and he sniffs
In his room, he really lives
In his room, he is constantly high
And in his room, he'll eventually die
********************************************************
Friend Or Foe

Friend or foe, high or low
In your system, fast or slow
Out of your mind, by popping pills
Giving you feelings, imaginary thrills
Making you hot, making you cold
Making you weak but making you bold
You're in a rut, you can't escape
Friend or foe, making you shake
You're needing more, you can't get enough
Friend or foe, is killing you off
********************************************************
Glue

Got to get a buzz
Got to get high
Got to get a buzz
I'd like to learn to fly
I'd like to be normal
Breath fresh air
But it's stuck to my lips
Stuck to my hair
It's in a tin
It's in a bag
It's up at my mouth
I'm starting to gag
It's in my lungs
It's in my head
It killing my brain cells
Soon I'll be dead
********************************************************
The Trip

The voyage was long, full of twists and bends
With colours all around, starting to blend
Images were blurring, changing, constantly differ
This was his trip, like floating down a river

His thoughts were lost, somewhere, nowhere
An empty mind, dull eyes and a blank stare
He was in the clouds, this was his high
This was his trip, like floating in the sky

His speech was slow, in fact, he made no sound
As with a crash, he hit the ground
Down he kept going, until he could go no more
His final trip buried him, in the devils core


This poem is Copyright © parkman



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