ILLICIT ILLNESS

I was considering the subject of sorrow, sadness and tears
And how depression has such strength to last for so many years
Then I realized how happiness turns to hurt and pain
And how my tomorrows really have nothing to gain

And so I pick up my syringe filled with illicit calm
then try to find a vein in a track laden arm
Just another puncture as a sign of how badly I feel
And the belief that the wounds she caused may never heal

Dope can be a balm to calm the strength of stagnation
And erase the visions of repeated information
Intrepid information that reminds me of someone I once knew
And the portrait of pain her painting drew

No more laughter only she brought about
Because hurt can carry such caustic clout
It’s for that reason and that reason alone
That after so many years my sorrow seems only to have grown
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~