It's different now.
No more buzz.
No more drugs.
All I ask is how.
Help me find a way out.
Stop me from hurting myself.
Stop the screaming.
Bad drugs.
Bad buzz.
It's going to be different now.
YOU ARE READING
Salad Days
PoésieSad poems from sad and angry times. Written from a juvenile time (14 years old) to older. That's what you get when you leave a teen to ponder reality. A pen hits reality harder than high school survival. Original Art from Vivianne Rheaume
Confusion
It's different now.
No more buzz.
No more drugs.
All I ask is how.
Help me find a way out.
Stop me from hurting myself.
Stop the screaming.
Bad drugs.
Bad buzz.
It's going to be different now.
