Addicted
Some days it feels like I am addicted
to the sweet smelling nectar of sorrow
tears stream down like rivulets of rain
from the leaves of my being
gathering in a pool at my feet
I watch in the silence of the morning
as the joy and freedom
the laughter and childlike thrill of life
melt into the puddle
yet I so wish I could feel the happiness
that once was there
where did it go
what have I become
a pitiful addict of suffering
loss and pain
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