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Jackie boy, why are you bleeding

From inside the soul to the out

Take another drink of life my friend

Cause I think you just whacked yourself
A seasoned lover
Clever
I praise her tea’s flavor

Thank her for the gift
Of morn’s spirit lift
My adoration she savors.

We sit with the brew
Talk a word or two
As each morning we do

For something more who cares
With a table and two chairs
Four hands and cups two.

A small time but enough
To make things less tough
Brave the day hereafter

A small space yet deep
Spent in blissful sip
In banter and some laughter.
behold the art
of Loghain
a poet possessed
with fine refrain

one is in awe
of his exemplary creations
they're deserving
of deafening ovations
 Jun 2014 Cunning Linguist
NLB
that voice in your head is deceiving,
it wants you to think it's your best friend,
but it's your worst enemy.

it wants you to think it wants the best for you,
to help you,
but that voice in your head,
it wants to see you dead.

*n.l.b
 Jun 2014 Cunning Linguist
NLB
you have to keep reminding yourself,
when you're feeling weak,
that drugs are kind of like an aeroplane,
crashing.

you feel bad,
they'll lift you up,
take you high into the sky,
above the clouds,
where everything is beautiful,
you'll feel better up there,
but it's only short term.

remember,
eventually the engines will start to fail.

you'll be falling at a ridiculous speed,
you'll crash against the ground,
and everything will go up in flames.

and that will feel ten times worse than anything you felt before.*

n.l.b
inspired by a poem i reposted, an na meeting and a conversation with a friend.
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