PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Welcome all to the inner workings of a drug fiend.
A friend of social foes and mothers' woes.
A complete guide of how to hide the hideous creature that captures the potentials of a literate heart. 
From the start 
We know what grew and still grows inside our used up brains.
Like slow lanes on life's tragic highway
We chose the high-way.
And what a voice that choice did have.
There is no fun and games when those drug pains run through those drug veins.
It broke every path created for us,
Every be all you can bees as long as it's not like those junkies pacing up and down street corners looking for free-bees in our nation's cities.

Because isn't that what we are taught in our schools, 
That the suburbs only produce the superb.
Those level headed lads with the storybook dads and the moms who preach holy psalms to the offspring of soon to be so called corporate kings.
My child eyes ached beneath the boredom of those parental five-point plans.
Their intentions were swell but the lack of social peers to cloud juvenile fears brought pathetic internal uncertainties to those teenage years.
So let the pretending begin.
Let the beauty of benevolence unravel 
Because here I stand 
A wannabe man with aspirations to become anything but what he has become.

I’m just another lost product of the national sum;
A dividend that produces no positive end.
Who uses the love around him like public bathroom stalls and appalls the decadence of all social decorum with clichéd characteristics. 
Like Bush's ballistic missiles I've found the threat and its regret.
The aim is locked on to this shame of disappointment for this so called anointment I call heroin.
This is a no win suicidal situation and its inflation pays due to the donor of the deed
Similar to greed it consumes the everything of ones inner creed.

This is my 12 step self indulgent memoir to many.
My own catharsis written in narcissistic notes.
My commitment for readers to relate to the rotten rituals of bottom feeders.