That bed that I lay on is narrow and cold. This sickness inside me tears at my soul and the devil awaits me, he calls me his son for he knows I’m cornered and too weak to run.
For I soon must return to my gutter of thrills where joy is the needle or a bottle of pills where a man welcomes misery like an old friend from home that he uses and abused till the misery is gone.
My mind is filled with torture, my body is filled with pain but the needle is warm as it sinks in my vein. Just a matter of seconds then my mind will be free from the coldness and darkness that dominate me.
But the freedom is short lived and then I’m alone. I must find the pusher but my moneys all gone. Then the cycle of horror starts over once more. Oh Lord, let me suffer this misery no more.
No comments:
Post a Comment