Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2019
A man with no quarrel or qualm
Can set out on a self destroying path
To ease his pain
He makes claims he’s not the same

A drug induced stupor prolongs the inevitable sadness
A sadness that fills your soul with the darkest of depths
The hardest to forget

Grim thoughts soon envelop the mind
They develop this foggy confusion
They’re nothing but grand illusions
Written by
Patrick  17/M
(17/M)   
78
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems