Poems About Drugs by New Members
#drugs
Poems about drugs by new members. Poems written by members who joined within the last 30 days.
Onedeadbat
Poem Published
Today 12:47pm
Today 12:47pm
I love you... It's a f**ked up dream
I love you cocaine but
It's a fucked up dream
find me lost somewhere else
between death and living clean
psilocybin cocaine
what a fucked up dream
for an escape that's temporary
I trade off money and self esteem
they claim it's hellish selfish
and no good for your health
watching the sane turn manic
would have most losing their mind
making snow castles
going snow blind
hope this path is similar to andy's
finding paradise after doing my time
By Tom Robertson
It's a fucked up dream
find me lost somewhere else
between death and living clean
psilocybin cocaine
what a fucked up dream
for an escape that's temporary
I trade off money and self esteem
they claim it's hellish selfish
and no good for your health
watching the sane turn manic
would have most losing their mind
making snow castles
going snow blind
hope this path is similar to andy's
finding paradise after doing my time
By Tom Robertson
#drugs
#addiction
#redemption
8 reads
0 Comments
Onedeadbat
Poem Published
Today 12:47pm
Today 12:47pm
I love you... It's a f**ked up dream
I love you cocaine but
It's a fucked up dream
find me lost somewhere else
between death and living clean
psilocybin cocaine
what a fucked up dream
for an escape that's temporary
I trade off money and self esteem
they claim it's hellish selfish
and no good for your health
watching the sane turn manic
would have most losing their mind
making snow castles
going snow blind
hope this path is similar to andy's
finding paradise after doing my time
By Tom Robertson
It's a fucked up dream
find me lost somewhere else
between death and living clean
psilocybin cocaine
what a fucked up dream
for an escape that's temporary
I trade off money and self esteem
they claim it's hellish selfish
and no good for your health
watching the sane turn manic
would have most losing their mind
making snow castles
going snow blind
hope this path is similar to andy's
finding paradise after doing my time
By Tom Robertson
#drugs
#addiction
#redemption
8 reads
0 Comments
Onedeadbat
Poem Published
Today 12:47pm
Today 12:47pm
I love you... It's a f**ked up dream
I love you cocaine but
It's a fucked up dream
find me lost somewhere else
between death and living clean
psilocybin cocaine
what a fucked up dream
for an escape that's temporary
I trade off money and self esteem
they claim it's hellish selfish
and no good for your health
watching the sane turn manic
would have most losing their mind
making snow castles
going snow blind
hope this path is similar to andy's
finding paradise after doing my time
By Tom Robertson
It's a fucked up dream
find me lost somewhere else
between death and living clean
psilocybin cocaine
what a fucked up dream
for an escape that's temporary
I trade off money and self esteem
they claim it's hellish selfish
and no good for your health
watching the sane turn manic
would have most losing their mind
making snow castles
going snow blind
hope this path is similar to andy's
finding paradise after doing my time
By Tom Robertson
#drugs
#addiction
#redemption
8 reads
0 Comments
Northern_Soul
-Missy-
-Missy-
Poem Published
Yesterday 1:22pm
Yesterday 1:22pm
A word on collecting
He once said
our spare room
looked like
a bazaar
as he weaved through
stained glass lamps,
occult oddities
and herbs.
I've collected burn marks,
cigarettes, orgasms,
bruises
I've collected good scotch
trip stories, nicknames
and muses
and it's easy enough
to be a collector to prove
you exist—
all that's left
are guitars and
crystals
I don't think he knows
how lucky he is.
our spare room
looked like
a bazaar
as he weaved through
stained glass lamps,
occult oddities
and herbs.
I've collected burn marks,
cigarettes, orgasms,
bruises
I've collected good scotch
trip stories, nicknames
and muses
and it's easy enough
to be a collector to prove
you exist—
all that's left
are guitars and
crystals
I don't think he knows
how lucky he is.
#LifeStruggles
#alcohol
#drugs
#SelfReflection
#acceptance
36 reads
5 Comments
Northern_Soul
-Missy-
-Missy-
Poem Published
Yesterday 1:22pm
Yesterday 1:22pm
A word on collecting
He once said
our spare room
looked like
a bazaar
as he weaved through
stained glass lamps,
occult oddities
and herbs.
I've collected burn marks,
cigarettes, orgasms,
bruises
I've collected good scotch
trip stories, nicknames
and muses
and it's easy enough
to be a collector to prove
you exist—
all that's left
are guitars and
crystals
I don't think he knows
how lucky he is.
our spare room
looked like
a bazaar
as he weaved through
stained glass lamps,
occult oddities
and herbs.
I've collected burn marks,
cigarettes, orgasms,
bruises
I've collected good scotch
trip stories, nicknames
and muses
and it's easy enough
to be a collector to prove
you exist—
all that's left
are guitars and
crystals
I don't think he knows
how lucky he is.
#LifeStruggles
#alcohol
#drugs
#SelfReflection
#acceptance
36 reads
5 Comments
Northern_Soul
-Missy-
-Missy-
Poem Published
Yesterday 1:22pm
Yesterday 1:22pm
A word on collecting
He once said
our spare room
looked like
a bazaar
as he weaved through
stained glass lamps,
occult oddities
and herbs.
I've collected burn marks,
cigarettes, orgasms,
bruises
I've collected good scotch
trip stories, nicknames
and muses
and it's easy enough
to be a collector to prove
you exist—
all that's left
are guitars and
crystals
I don't think he knows
how lucky he is.
our spare room
looked like
a bazaar
as he weaved through
stained glass lamps,
occult oddities
and herbs.
I've collected burn marks,
cigarettes, orgasms,
bruises
I've collected good scotch
trip stories, nicknames
and muses
and it's easy enough
to be a collector to prove
you exist—
all that's left
are guitars and
crystals
I don't think he knows
how lucky he is.
#LifeStruggles
#alcohol
#drugs
#SelfReflection
#acceptance
36 reads
5 Comments
Northern_Soul
-Missy-
-Missy-
Poem Published
Yesterday 1:22pm
Yesterday 1:22pm
A word on collecting
He once said
our spare room
looked like
a bazaar
as he weaved through
stained glass lamps,
occult oddities
and herbs.
I've collected burn marks,
cigarettes, orgasms,
bruises
I've collected good scotch
trip stories, nicknames
and muses
and it's easy enough
to be a collector to prove
you exist—
all that's left
are guitars and
crystals
I don't think he knows
how lucky he is.
our spare room
looked like
a bazaar
as he weaved through
stained glass lamps,
occult oddities
and herbs.
I've collected burn marks,
cigarettes, orgasms,
bruises
I've collected good scotch
trip stories, nicknames
and muses
and it's easy enough
to be a collector to prove
you exist—
all that's left
are guitars and
crystals
I don't think he knows
how lucky he is.
#LifeStruggles
#alcohol
#drugs
#SelfReflection
#acceptance
36 reads
5 Comments
Northern_Soul
-Missy-
-Missy-
Poem Published
Yesterday 1:22pm
Yesterday 1:22pm
A word on collecting
He once said
our spare room
looked like
a bazaar
as he weaved through
stained glass lamps,
occult oddities
and herbs.
I've collected burn marks,
cigarettes, orgasms,
bruises
I've collected good scotch
trip stories, nicknames
and muses
and it's easy enough
to be a collector to prove
you exist—
all that's left
are guitars and
crystals
I don't think he knows
how lucky he is.
our spare room
looked like
a bazaar
as he weaved through
stained glass lamps,
occult oddities
and herbs.
I've collected burn marks,
cigarettes, orgasms,
bruises
I've collected good scotch
trip stories, nicknames
and muses
and it's easy enough
to be a collector to prove
you exist—
all that's left
are guitars and
crystals
I don't think he knows
how lucky he is.
#LifeStruggles
#alcohol
#drugs
#SelfReflection
#acceptance
36 reads
5 Comments
Ronethone
Kieron
Kieron
Poem Published
7th Jan 2021 9:41pm
7th Jan 2021 9:41pm
Love, Drugs And A Catatonic State Of Affairs
We're living in a world of love
As we love to hate everything
In these dark seasons of snuff and politics
The slow way to die and I still feel sixteen
But my body's grown old in these cold winters
Broken rhymes and murder lines
That's what it feels like to be human
Dancing in the ash of cremation
And you know I don't want this at all
I'm that high there's an ocean in the sky
A figment of my imagination
As we all dream a lie like a dream
The concept of what makes happiness
Cheap sex cascading on emotional freedom ...
As we love to hate everything
In these dark seasons of snuff and politics
The slow way to die and I still feel sixteen
But my body's grown old in these cold winters
Broken rhymes and murder lines
That's what it feels like to be human
Dancing in the ash of cremation
And you know I don't want this at all
I'm that high there's an ocean in the sky
A figment of my imagination
As we all dream a lie like a dream
The concept of what makes happiness
Cheap sex cascading on emotional freedom ...
#drugs
55 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Drugs by New Members
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