Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2012
Don't let me sleep, my state is critical.
Keep talking, make me think of better days.
If I stop concentrating, it will take hold.
This gnawing at my brain,
I have a corrupted core.
My defenses cannot maintain stability,
I am sure to shatter by morning.
There is no cure,
because it came from within.
There is no market for this,
no dealers or middle men.
It does not come in powder or pills,
nor can it be injected or smoked.
No, this kind of drug is one of the utmost danger.
Doubt and worry are its street names.
Tailored to each person, it plays on fears.
Weaknesses are its ladder rungs,
climbing ever higher in your conscious.
Kelly C S
Written by
Kelly C S
996
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems