By Stevens Cadet

An addiction, I think i began to over vision.

The words flowing as they were growing, I get lost in the rhythms.

Always control my stick but in need of Ritalin because late nights thoughts got me questioning my dividends.

Crack? Through these lines you fall through, under the deep spit.

Quoting the daily life that i live.

An addiction.

I think this became a drug. Vegetable, i stood still, who pulled the plug?

But yet only quicker do these words come along.

When I’m near death, i fear less, chain reaction…. words become the methadone.

Thought i seen death when the brakes left, yet it kept me awake to the dreams conceived at night fall.

Irony in that was I never snorted snow at all.

Cold Flow, with some overalls.

Protection for what I’m working. Addicting to this lifestyle, though some may find this alerting.

Realizing the reverting for these words inserting,

I curve in the diverting for converting while exerting,

then subverting………..what the common minds have you learning.

This Poem Features In:

Browse Collections By Category

Select from our entire catalogue of poetry collections: