You are currently browsing the daily archive for April 9th, 2008.
Hard to see the past
Sewn up in new lover’s tales
Do my eyes show fear?
Lots of drugs you say?
His habit told in the nude
Five years clean, sober
AA helped so much
After twenty years of dope
Junkie turned thinker
Forty years old now
I hold you warm and alive
Don’t go back there please
Poetry created by a life of chaos and a mind set on clearing out the cob webs. Bizarre, deranged, spiritual and progressive – for the most part.
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