THE WHITE STUFF
He stood silently
At the doorway of the living dead
He watched them intently
Their faces illuminated
Contorted with ecstasy
So immense
It bordered pain
Losers?
Or did they gain
Something unfathomable
Seductive
Unknown
An insane special place
All of their own
He watched their spastic frenzied movements
As they danced
And swayed in the half light
He listened to their constant
Non sensicalΒ
Babble
Felt the powerful pull
Of these lowlife
This rabble
And he loved them
These sewer rats of life
Hidden in shadows
Immune to misery
Long endless party
Released from strife
He turned to his loved ones
Who stood on the divide
Crying, calling
Reaching out to him
And he feltΒ
Not a thing
Inside
The white stuff called stronger
He took a step
Teetered
FellΒ
Releasing reality
Wantonly embracing
An everlasting hell.
Marion Price
(2018)
ββββββ
Β
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Comments
From the heart...addiction is the devils disguise xx
And thankyou SD xx
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This is heartbreakingly sublime! Beautiful. xx
Thankyou xx