Crack-ed

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  • Sadness

    Crack-ed

    God knows I do not want
    To Think of you
    In the manner in which I do.
    Witnessing you washing down your drugs with a bottle of Jack
    Followed with a smoke of
    Cracked
    Pipe
    Dreams.
    All Love sickly sucked out into burnt oily haze.
    Robbing us of home.
    Raping us of hope.
    You are one wound
    That seeps into my thoughts.
    Ugly times
    When fear is my companion
    Instead of you, my husband.
    God knows I do not want
    To think of you.


    Deborah †
    Jonesborough
    September 07

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    Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.

    Plato (BC 427-BC 347) Greek philosopher.

    tennessee’s Poems (24)

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