Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2013
These things we do, we who feel too much.
We who the world tries to crush every day.
We who have to fight for every breath.

I have no problem with a joint
A glass of wine or port. Even a forty in its brown paper jacket.

I have known many who partied.
And many who partook in secret or just alone. I have known. Many who spread their skin with blades,
A vent for excruciating pain.

And often times I sit alone, watching.

I've been called naive because I don't see the world as a thing that necessarily has to e ****** up. I choose to hope for the best rather then give in to the critics. And I wish to eliminate the victims.

Victims are those who have stuff done to them. Terrible stuff. All over the spectrum. I don't want us to be victims.

Everything has its place. Even as a warning sign. I believe cannabis was created for a reason. But my friends, that reason is not for you to exist in a sad state of numbness that allows you to keep yourself from taking action. It's not to numb the side effects of a broken heart a broken spirit a fractured soul.

I have gotten softly drunk in Italy , sipping on white whine and nasty ***** and cokes  and called our host a non specific Italian name.   Whiskey can be used to numb injuries. To prepare soldiers for amputation in primitive times. But my friends, alcohol is not there to make you bold or keep you unaware.

To the sorrowful souls who have so much pain they have to slice themselves , starve themselves , harm their selves to survive, I ask you to be strong. You are not a slave to the blade. You are strong enough to change your life  

To my dreamers, we must stop numbing ourselves as to not have to deal with reality. I believe so many of us do that the that real
Change of ourselves and others and the world is pushed even farther away. And we are what humanity needs. The need people who feel and hurt and need and love and create.
They need Someone to help
Someone to offer a  better choice.

This is rough and not well written

But the dreamers have been on my heart tonight.
Written by
shika
734
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems