city of the drugged

Please review!

i'm high on livin',

floating through the air on a cloud

of manufactured puff,

but i think the drug-induced haze

is starting to wear off,

i can see the sun again.


i can see the pollution,

and quick, somebody,

pass me another pill!


i can hear the droning buzz

of constant construction,

the moaning of the sick people on the streets,


give me that needle,

i need another dose,

i need a stronger dose,


sometimes i think i need a stronger

prescription, but the doctor says it'll kill me,

and i wonder if that's what killed my best friend.


but i can't remember what her name is,

lost in the maze of drugged confusion,

so maybe my high isn't natural,


maybe the birds don't sing no more,

but it's probably normal to never remember 

anything at all.


i don't want to see everything,

i'd rather be high

all the times, after all,


less pain, more gain,

isn't that what they say?

i can't quite recall,


but coasting on

man-made ecstasy

makes it so much easier


and i think that

perhaps there might just

be something wrong here.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed