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heroin
something so awful, how could it be this pretty?
a felling i can't but to have
there are places where the worst of things
or seen as the best
the black around your eyes is to die for
the bloodshot eyes, people i can't wait to have
this life isn't mean to be seen
so let me see it in a blur..just this last night?
one last time?
and one last shot?
i lay cold on the floor, my hands shaking with a needle in it, held to my arm
a smile on my face, laughing like i have so many times
like child, but in a odd
scary tone
blood runs from my arm
i look at what i have done
in my mind i know this life isn't right
in my heart, my heart calls for it every night
and cries for the dark in the day
by day, im in the life of class, in the light,with fame but i walk the streets with a dirty feeling
by night, im in the dark, in alley waiting to be paid, waiting to pay, yet i feel so clean
it to late? my heart's at home there now, and theres no escape...but why would i want to?
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This article has 3 comments.
Please tell me this poem has been published somewhere!!
good work!
its also a response to a poem my friend wrote