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High

Nothing is precious

so you can get high

all is stolen

at what price?

middlemen

eightballs

up your nose

duty calls

yelling and cursing

everyone's the enemy

can't hear

can't see

glass pipes

silver ones too

****** up your arm

sit and stew

no focus

tweekin out

talk too much

talk too loud

watchin for cops

at every hour

yet you think its you

with all the power

your addicting highs

your painful lows

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c
Written by
connie-rae-sebert
American
Published
Nov 16, 2009
Lines·Words
26·74
Permission

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