Everyday, do it in a different way,
Same old tale, Every time we crave,
Feels new each time that's what we say,
Feels so good, it drowns us in its wave.
Just one last drink, one last smoke,
One last cut, but still no hope,
One last needle, one last dope,
Still doesn't stop, why not take a rope???
Those addictions that we have,
Each time we fall deeper, in its trap,
But still can't stop and we know its sad,
Maybe, being an addict is my identity...
BUT, its not who I AM!!!
YOU ARE READING
Silent Thoughts
PoetryMemories created by us are embedded in our minds, while some encounters are nerve wrecking and never forgotten, some remind us of a temporary paradise and, some leave deep impacts in our lives and scars in our hearts, in ways simple explainable...
