(another poem ages later, like , comment, , share, this is an extended version) One needle prick to ruin your life, one breath closer to not breathing, one puff closer to death. It takes once to make it twice. Stop for the better, Start in vain, End in pain. The feeling, is it worth the loss? Numbing the ocean of hazard, To bring on a tsunami of loss. Powders, rolls and syringes, to jam life's hinges. One time can lead to one hundred, Because one breath is all it takes, to be locked in a substance. Decisions can destroy, Families and lives, Substances have left only ashes behind. It doesn't take a long time to make bad habits, It takes time to break them. They promise peace in the darkness, But they end in bloodshed, Never in happiness. The first time, will end in craving and obssession. The substance wafts around waiting for its next prisoners. Its a red target on your back, waiting to strike. Because one wrong deci
Will it stop when there is nothing left but ashes, And only few little green patches. Our promises are loud but we accomplish only in whispers. We blame it on the minister, But we are more sinister. We call ourselves children of god, Heads high and chests broad, But he is ashamed at the sick reality that we created. Ashamed at the heights that can touch heaven, But can't see the misery below. He watches as we waste away the rivers of reason tear away his gardens, and choke his clouds. He is always happy, us humans say, he is the almighty we say, he will save us from reality we pray. He is not real, We are the only ones who can save us from this plight. And we created this sick reality, we only stopped when it was our last breath.