Poetic-Verses
'' The Powers Of Addiction ''
This feeling is an uncontrollable urge,
very soon I'll be ranting and raving,
on my body and mind it is truly a scourge,
I must score to get rid of my craving.
It's acceptable to drink it's fine to smoke,
though it kills more than my illegal fix,
while your liver fails and your black lungs choke,
drugs and our bodies just don't mix.
Addicts are not those down and out scum,
the world just loves to portray,
they can be rich and famous, clever not dumb,
does that make their addiction okay.
When I look at my own reflection,
the ravages of drugs I don't see,
I look at myself with affection,
deep inside that skeleton is me.
I've disgraced my Father and Mother,
yes I'm disgusted at the life I am living,
but my guilt I can easily smother,
bu using those who are kind and forgiving.
They supply me with clothing and with food,
my needles I am given for free,
all my benefits can go on my fix, that's good,
if only the blind could see.
They believe they're providing assistance,
when in fact our problems they compound,
when required we'll put up resistance,
those tactics will always confound.
You spend millions trying to help us all,
but the majority don't want to be cured,
while on our drugs we are having a ball,
of that you can be assured.
The question in reality this poses,
is why so few of us finish with drugs,
if they woke up and smelled the roses,
they would know we treat them as mugs.
By pandering to us our addictions they feed,
that's a subject they don't like us to mention,
when alls said and done our habits we'll feed,
giving up was never our intention.
To get high I will beg steal or borrow,
as for shame I no longer care,
regardless I don't feel any sorrow,
when I fall down I know they'll be there.
Every twist and turn I take,
I find there is no way out,
any decision I attempt to make,
fills me up with all my self doubt.
I'm caught up in a vice like grip,
there is no way I can escape,
I know my dignity this habit will strip,
My existence is so out of shape.
I love the feeling when I'm on a high,
but I detest that road back down,
I feel so depressed I just want to cry,
in self sympathy I just want to drown.
It's always someone else who's to blame,
my peers my friends or whoever,
it's never me that's why there's no shame,
as an excuse it's really quite clever.
I know you will say I deserve all I get,
for this is the life I have chosen,
have you lived a life without any regret,
from society have you ever been frozen.
You may well ask why am I so obtuse,
I'm responsible for my own affliction,
well I say to you no it's not an excuse,
I've succumbed to,
‘' The Powers Of Addiction ‘'
very soon I'll be ranting and raving,
on my body and mind it is truly a scourge,
I must score to get rid of my craving.
It's acceptable to drink it's fine to smoke,
though it kills more than my illegal fix,
while your liver fails and your black lungs choke,
drugs and our bodies just don't mix.
Addicts are not those down and out scum,
the world just loves to portray,
they can be rich and famous, clever not dumb,
does that make their addiction okay.
When I look at my own reflection,
the ravages of drugs I don't see,
I look at myself with affection,
deep inside that skeleton is me.
I've disgraced my Father and Mother,
yes I'm disgusted at the life I am living,
but my guilt I can easily smother,
bu using those who are kind and forgiving.
They supply me with clothing and with food,
my needles I am given for free,
all my benefits can go on my fix, that's good,
if only the blind could see.
They believe they're providing assistance,
when in fact our problems they compound,
when required we'll put up resistance,
those tactics will always confound.
You spend millions trying to help us all,
but the majority don't want to be cured,
while on our drugs we are having a ball,
of that you can be assured.
The question in reality this poses,
is why so few of us finish with drugs,
if they woke up and smelled the roses,
they would know we treat them as mugs.
By pandering to us our addictions they feed,
that's a subject they don't like us to mention,
when alls said and done our habits we'll feed,
giving up was never our intention.
To get high I will beg steal or borrow,
as for shame I no longer care,
regardless I don't feel any sorrow,
when I fall down I know they'll be there.
Every twist and turn I take,
I find there is no way out,
any decision I attempt to make,
fills me up with all my self doubt.
I'm caught up in a vice like grip,
there is no way I can escape,
I know my dignity this habit will strip,
My existence is so out of shape.
I love the feeling when I'm on a high,
but I detest that road back down,
I feel so depressed I just want to cry,
in self sympathy I just want to drown.
It's always someone else who's to blame,
my peers my friends or whoever,
it's never me that's why there's no shame,
as an excuse it's really quite clever.
I know you will say I deserve all I get,
for this is the life I have chosen,
have you lived a life without any regret,
from society have you ever been frozen.
You may well ask why am I so obtuse,
I'm responsible for my own affliction,
well I say to you no it's not an excuse,
I've succumbed to,
‘' The Powers Of Addiction ‘'
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`` The Powers Of Addiction ``
`` The Powers Of Addiction ``
