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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Drama · #734209
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MILLIGRAMS

Such random little thoughts going through me
So many ideas coming straight from serendipity
And all I have to do is give in entirely

Running rabbit rampant, little social creature
Jacked too high to breathe, death’s best new feature
Heaven called me again, they’re sending a preacher

I could be on the road straight to hell
And some people tell me I might as well
We all know how well sex and drugs sell

Give me one more moment to think this through
Just a little more time to figure out what’s true
Something that will help me distinguish white from blue

So my mind is numbing to an end here
What pain can’t be driven by the loss of fear?
And so nothing in my head will ever be clear

-poet Darká
© Copyright 2003 DMB Secundus (kornkidxxix at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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