There's smoke all around me
And I have no choice but breathe it in.
It's too intoxicating.
I've started to suffocate.
Where is this smoke coming from?
And why am I getting addicted to it?
Is it the nicotine?
Or is it the humble smell of weed?
To my right I see my friends,
My dying friends with heroine in their arm.
And the others sniffing in tons of coke.
Where do they get it?
They are yet so young.
They have a full life ahead.
A life they can shape and develop.
How do they find pleasure in this?
I mean I barely find pleasure in sleep,
I can only function on music.
Why did they choose that path?
Better yet, why pressure me into it?
They know my answer will always be no,
Yet they think it's worth a try.
I'm tired of this madness.
I'm going to find an environment,
An environment which is safe,
Safe from toxins and poisons.
A place I find peace.
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YOU ARE READING
Too soon to be sure
PoetryIt's a sequal for 'Through a broken mind'. It takes you through a path which shouldn't be followed but the going gets rough and there is too much on one's mind.
