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I always feel my best with pulsing veins of Absolut or Johnnie Walker neat, or devil’s dust to take away my pain, a thin syringe injecting hell’s deceit. Though sorrow loses strength with needle sting and moods arise with belts of liquid heat, I know the tingling twitch will always bring electric blood when morning comes to greet. But still I struggle with the current’s craze, euphoric numb that always plugs and sways the battle in-between the nights and days, the sunset hour with all its shades of grays where all the choices made are surely wrong- I wake at dusk and start my morning strong.
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Sep 5, 2010
Sep 5, 2010 at 7:50 AM UTC
A Sonnet for Euphoria
I always feel my best with pulsing veins of Absolut or Johnnie Walker neat, or devil’s dust to take away my pain, a thin syringe injecting hell’s deceit. Though sorrow loses strength with needle sting and moods arise with belts of liquid heat, I know the tingling twitch will always bring electric blood when morning comes to greet. But still I struggle with the current’s craze, euphoric numb that always plugs and sways the battle in-between the nights and days, the sunset hour with all its shades of grays where all the choices made are surely wrong- I wake at dusk and start my morning strong.
v_V_v
Written by
62/M/American
Sep 5, 2010
Sep 5, 2010 at 7:50 AM UTC
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