He knew it was poisonous
He knew it was poisonous,
but it was all too much.
To him it was a coping mechanism.
It got him through the day.
All the things he expected
that did not turn out
the way he expected them to
tormented his sober mind.
The mind needed some sort
of a distraction, something to
put the pressure off.
Poisonous it may be,
it took the pressure off.
All the missed chances,
all the chances that were not taken,
all the losses in that moment
they did not matter.
He once cared how he looked,
but no more. If it wasn’t for it,
he would have even jumped
on to a highway, not caring what happens.
He knew it was poisonous,
but it was all too much.
The pain was too deep.
A bad seed provided him with life.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.