Restless Young Man Without a Name
He keeps a very low profile,
afraid of the the horrible secret he hides;
hooked on a daily dosage of cocaine...
seeking an instant relief from his acute pain!
His cramped den is the stench
of smoked substance bought on drug-infested streets,
and filth is the undeniable evidence:
one can surely tell that he lives in Hell...
red devilish eyes and sunken cheeks;
a wasted mind and body meeting their end!
Restless young man without a name,
wary of the destructible consequences
that stunt your unremorseful conscience;
and what price will you pay and whom will you blame?
Restless young man without a name,
you only existed to fulfill a destiny of shame!
Day-time is so detestable to him,
more than the viciousest enemy;
night-time changes his personality...
and he searches for dope down-town,
where the houses are so run-down...
occupied by the crack-heads of East Main!
A limping kid, from nowhere, hands him
a small bag and he exchanges it for some green;
and what started the urge within...
is a deep wound, which can never heal!
Restless young man without a name,
intoxicated by the poison that destroys your life and health;
you can't be aware of what distorts your weak senses...
until you are helpless and run out of breath!
Restless young man without a name,
guiltless and indulgent...you allow death to happily dance!
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2007
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