Line on the counter waiting for a nose,
juiced up heroin in the needle waiting for a vein.
We throw out the useless trash, bagged with an overdose.
I can’t remember was it the war on drugs
the war for drugs in the ghetto’s and slums,
not much better a way to go than opiate hug.
So what if nothin’ inside this useless bum
works anymore, at least I was high on the day I died.
And now I ghostly stand over me watching my lips turn blue
with no more electrical charges running through my brain,
at the very best I have lost my capacity for any more human pain.
I eased my worried mind with a blast and a shot
and now I have made myself free
of troubles that overwhelmed
and were too much for me.
© M Durfee
WHATS ONE MORE EH?
Leave that rifle where you can reach it in your sleep, of course when it’s needed a round must be chambered and the safety off. Now have a bit of an adults only party, send the 4 year old cousins into the bedroom to play. Hurry and air out the house and wash the dust of the mirror, the cops are on the way, one of the cousins pulled the trigger while at play and the other has a hole right ‘tween his eyes. One is living dead and the one with the hole in his head, well the little fella just up and died.
© M Durfee