A true story poem if you would not mind commenting?
I knew a girl who loved cocaine,
she had a seizure and her brain
is now just like a two-year-olds'.
Snow-white on a mirror, served cold.
I met a meth freak in '92.
He didn't like that I knew
his fears, and so he broke his arm
trying not to do me harm.
I waited tables in Hollywood
with a man who drank more than he should.
He wrecked his car on Mulholland Drive.
Lost half his face but he's still alive.
I give food to a heroin addict when I shop
for groceries. I know he wants to stop,
but he gets sick and cr**ps his pants.
Drugs are such a sweet romance.
I know some people who smoke pot.
What happened to them? Not a lot.
They have jobs and homes and cars.
What we can grow in our yards should be ours.
Buk; So why should the government be the ones who have control of those things? Who is most likely to use the stuff, you or them?? I don't think you would feel a need to go that far. And maybe someone will- and chances are it will be a synthetic of the types of plants you are talking about...
2 years ago
Beth, that's one of the reasons I wrote this poem. You are a victim of the system...
2 years ago