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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Emotional >> ID #1099923 |
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The Drug of Choice
It seems we come here for our fix. We cannot help it our thoughts do mix. The need so present, a heady dream. The words do batter, and out they stream. Our fingers shaking, the thoughts so clear. Once again seeking to conqueror our fear. Writing, writing the driving goal. The drug to which we give our soul.
© Copyright 2006 K. I. Smet (UN: k-i-smet at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
K. I. Smet has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |