I met a guy named Jack,
Who asked if anyone wanted gack.
When I said right here my name is Zach,
He sold me a big ol sack.
I smoked and smoked that crystal twack.
I smoked and smoked and got all whack.
When the bub was out I grabbed more to pack.
And when that ran out I went back to Jack.
But the smoke this time wasn't white but black.
I said **** you this junks a hack.
Asked where he gets off selling bunk *** smack.
I kicked his *** and took my money back.
Stole the keys to his wife's Cadillac.
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 4:48 AM UTC
I met a guy named Jack,
Who asked if anyone wanted gack.
When I said right here my name is Zach,
He sold me a big ol sack.
I smoked and smoked that crystal twack.
I smoked and smoked and got all whack.
When the bub was out I grabbed more to pack.
And when that ran out I went back to Jack.
But the smoke this time wasn't white but black.
I said **** you this junks a hack.
Asked where he gets off selling bunk *** smack.
I kicked his *** and took my money back.
Stole the keys to his wife's Cadillac.
Again. I don't write poems to make problems not look like problems. I don't want to brag or make light of a true problem. I simply find my addiction easier to cope with if I make it halirous. Seriously though kids. There's nothing funny about methamphetamine. Say nope to dope.
© Zachary Joseph Morsette 2015
Request permission to use this poem