The Cost of Agriculture in Afghanistan

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Tags:
  • Loss
  • ,
  • Life
  • ,
  • Sadness

    The Cost of Agriculture in Afghanistan

    Genesis:

    The Syringe pierces flesh.

    I wince at the pain

    The Plunger is Pushed

    My pupils dilate

    Blissful seconds:

    The caress of the creator

    Ripples through every fiber

    Euphoria comes in waves.

    Eroding the ache.

    Tortured hours:

    Temples throb

    Veins push rust.

    Skin like concrete

    Cold, cracked, cement.

    Wasted Years:

    The world moves around me

    Watching this life unfold

    As a voyeur

    A carbon copy, of a cardboard cut out.

    Of the person I used to be.

    Catharsis:

    My weakest moments are cyclical

    In the throes of denial

    I would sooner die tomorrow

    Than live one day at a time

     

     

     

     

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    Forestbird commented on The Cost of Agriculture in Afghanistan

    12-13-2010

    Many questions to you. Why you choose Darwin's image? How do you now all this fillings of Heroin addict? I do not know if it how it is really feels but sounds very convinsing. Good poem. Wold like to se more

    somethingclever

    12/13/2010

    Um, first of all I just like Darwin. Secondly I don't know anything about what it feels like to be a heroin addict. I simply try to empathize with the feelings of an addict. Thanks for reading, I am glad you enjoyed it.

    poetface commented on The Cost of Agriculture in Afghanistan

    08-31-2010

    Wow! This poem is something else! You are talented! My heart breaks for you.

    somethingclever

    08/31/2010

    Well thank you. i wrote this from the perspective of an addict though, its not about me.

    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

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