The Pattern
I get so caught up sometimes,
a pattern of self destruction.
Every night, temptations the same,
The cars, women, drugs and booze.
My future escaped so long ago,
In this moment is where I lay.
Responsibility, out of place,
this high is by far too good.
Lusting love, no emotion shown,
behind a pen I hide what is real.
Flip the record, let it replay,
Nothing is to change, only age.
I now drive away my own sanity,
too scared to seek adventure.
Forever stuck in my sinful ways,
until she comes to break me free.
This pattern has become all I know,
back on the town, never on track.
Another shot, another hit,
Another fuck, another poem...

Comments:
 
frederic   frederic wrote
on 8/4/2009 11:27:36 AM
In the poem, you're saying that you realize that you're going down a hellish path. So, that's a first step. You could take further steps to improving. Do you want to stay there? Or change?

Michele   Michele wrote
on 8/4/2009 1:14:17 AM
Who's 'she'? I lost my little bro' to various and prolonged addictions last year, and know too well that no-one can break you free, except you. There's plenty of help around you. But you have to ask for help--if this poem is about you! It's not sinful--it's just chemicals got a grip on you. I'll pray that you reach out....

Shadowofsatan666
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