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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Adult · #1464381
I’ve been hooked now for years with its nasty abuse all my funds I've dwindled away
My Plight…

I wasn’t as crazed
back in ‘73’;
my life was quite simply complete.
But in ‘78’
I sure failed to foresee
that I had succumb to defeat.

I’m hooked on cocaine
(though I’ll never admit
this to my family or friends)
‘Cause they’d not understand;
they’d just want to commit
me – they just don’t comprehend!

I’ve been hooked now for years
with its nasty abuse;
all my funds I have dwindled away -
I’ve become such a bore
and a lonely recluse;
it’s only cocaine I’ll obey.

My money’s exhausted
(oh God) I’m afraid;
I've hardly got anything left!
I’ll go sell the table
my granddaddy made -
(I forgot, it was lost in a theft).

What do I own
that might have any worth?
I’ve pawned all my silver with ease -
I’ve sold all my bonds
that were given at birth;
to my friends - I have put on the squeeze…

It’s happened, I’m out! 
I was sure some was left,
but I’ve searched the entire first floor -
I went begging a sniff
and was told, “Ha, you jest!”
“You’ve no money, so head for the door.”

I’m in total panic -
Now what can I do?
I must have some more of the stuff!
I feel like I’m choking -
I’m way overdue -
Believe me, it’s getting too rough!

I’ve now lost my mind
as I drive in my car,
I’m looking for something to steel.
I need some cash fast -
I’ll go rip off a bar!
They won’t know my gun is not real…

I did it, it worked! 
There was nobody hurt -
I got enough cash for five grams.
I tracked down my contact
then started to blurt;
“I said I’d be back, here I am!”

“Well, sorry, I’m out,”
said my contact, with spite
as he kicked his old dog off the chair -
“Perhaps if you come back
tomorrow—late night;
I’ll have a few lines I can spare.”

Tomorrow’s too late! 
Don’t you see I need now
the stuff that my nose hungers for?
There must be a way
and I’m sure you know how
to get what I want—I implore!

“There is one more man
That you might want to see,”
he said, as I walked to my car.
“Where can I find him?”
I asked; “Where is he”?
“He stays at the old Hotel Starr.”

So I went and I
sought him at his hotel
and told him I wanted some lines.
He said, “Sure, I’ve plenty
of goods here to sell;
come on in, and please do have some wine.”

He cut me five grams
for the cash that I gave -
I said, “Thanks a lot for the white;”
I took it straight home -
(Oh God did I crave
to snort it up all through the night…).

This shit’s no damn good! 
I was taken a fool
in my most desperate time.
Of course now he’s gone
and he thought himself cool…
That jerk ripped me off – what a slime!

I am going for help –
It is that or just die…
I’m tired of living this life
dependent on that which
I love as my high -
It’s given me nothing but strife...

© Copyright 2008 Robin:TheRhymeMaven (tikkunolam at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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