What do you think of my poem? its about addiction?
Question by Barbie_hates_pinkx: What do you think of my poem? its about addiction?
Alright so I am an drug addict. I have been for two years now, I’m 17. This past July I went to this place called Devereux, its a rehab center I was in there for 7 months. while I was there I wrote this poem. Its my first one ever. Tell me what you think.
I need to get back to you
What do I do?
What do I do?
What the F*ck do I do?
I hate you
I love you
I’m your Slave
Holding me in your shackles
I’m Trapped Here
I can’t Get Away
Come Free Me
Make me feel good again
I want your poison to sink into my veins
Like the trees and leaves take in the rain
I love the rush that you give me
When everything else is at a hush
Nothing else matters it’s me and you,
Let’s runway and take on this world
We can do it we can survive
As long as I have you in my eyes
Come on lets go we are almost out of time
We need the others so we can entwine
We need to pick up where we left off
You’re like a spider and I’m the moth
Sucking everything out of me
To where I can not see
You give me new eyes I’m floating like a boat out at sea
You release the pain I have gotten
Even though they say my brain may rotten
It’s Humorous, its fun, its thrill
Just stick the needle in my vein
Just like a drill
Now I’m sitting on the couch
Sticking the rest of you into my pouch
Just In case I might need you later
If I need more I will just go to the Maker
But I have to do what he wants
So I can get my Fix
You’re Sweet; you’re Tasty Just like Pixie Sticks
So here I am looking for my climb
And then I see a Mountain on the other side
I’m Struggling, I’m Weak
But you come along and put me back on my feet
You say the mountain is not worth it
And you tell me I should stay here, everything is perfect
You gave me Promises, I gave them Lies
I have you by my side
You’re Running Through my head
While I’m sitting here in this bed
Then I see the Sunlight coming through
I see a Bruise, It looks Black and Blue
Where did this come from?
I have no clue
I must have passed out
I don’t remember a thing
My Mother is calling me asking where I’m at
She’s picking me up I’m wearing a hat
To cover my face so I sit In the back
I don’t want her to see how high I am
Then the cars stops we are at the house
I run upstairs get on the computer, and Click the mouse.
I see my friends online they are asking me where have
I been all this time.
I tell them a lie saying I’ll see them soon
But I don’t , Instead I went back to you
I go to a club taking Rolls
I feel good Dancing to the beat
I can’t stand being in this heat
So I step outside to take a drag
And then I see my ex-boyfriend, What a Fag..
I pull the rest of you I have out of my bag
I take a few hits and pass it around
We are all high acting like clowns, its good fun
Not that Dangerous…
A guy gave me more of you, you’re so contagious
I’m sleepy crawling into my bed Thanking you
The best Friend I’ve ever had
I’m dreaming, smiling I see you in my head
I’ll see you again My friend, crystal meth.
Best answer:
Answer by Stephen Returns
The best writing is that which comes from our own experience. You illustrate the ups and downs really well; there’s a lot of anger in the lines. It’s like a love story between you and the drugs.
Give your answer to this question below!