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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Experience · #1592522
The poem is written by the spirit of a heroin addict


It ran trough my veins,

Like a flood of pleasure,

It gave me,

A luxury of eternity,

It had me known,

The ends off pleasures.......



Anything in life,

Has its own price,

Temporary trips to paradise,

Had just one price,

It was my life......



Wasnt very generous of a man,

But had no bargain,

Learnt it was a point in life,

Where none had any voice......



Is life too short?

or the miracles of shots??

was far too late,

couldn realize it,

life was being made shorter,

couldn recognize it.....



Even the reaper couldn face,

But the past cant be changd,

And clawing back,

from the hole dug by me,

is jus plain imposiblle.....





Now the world thnkx me,

For making them realize,

While we take it,

It takes us far high were none can reach...............





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