Best Overdose Poems

This one is for the broken,
hiding behind invisible bruising.
For the forgotten and the ones 
who have forgotten us,
like the misunderstood misfits.
Who howl at the moon,
look...

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I know you're not here

but you are in my heart 

so 

you are always with me

i'll just slip into you

with these words.
 
I know 
there...

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One day we will be, forever silent.
Where would we be without poetry?

As a child, I buried my heart,
drained from games death would play -
in adulthood,...

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The storms are raging on the rollin' sea, and on the highway of regret
Yes, I played around, was unfaithful to you, I'd change it all...

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If laughter's the best medicine
I think I've had an overdose
It's coursing through my body
From my head down to my toes

I'm worried about my Ass
They say...

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Whom the horse is looking for
Every day in the scarlet breeze
It comes and taps at the door
Have you forgotten your blue cheese

Is it the one...

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The thunder booms; the rain, it pours.
We're half inside and half outdoors.
A screened-in porch brings Nature close
But not enough to overdose.

And so we sit and...

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Melancholy me, since Kelly's gone away
Far beyond the sea, and out of every day
Stage by stage I've wept, but finally, I see
What I must accept;...

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Adrift in silent tranquillity, admiring a
Backdrop of nature's charm and grace.
Clarion cloudless sapphire skies above
Depict the state of calmness in my mind.
Eyes admire an abundance...

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Sixteen years ago he left me,
I was only two years old.
He chose a life of crime instead,
At least that's what I've been told.

He never tried...

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I wrote what I thought was a 'poem' some years ago,
but it lacked rhythm, rhyme, and had no smooth flow.
Its imagery was blurry, and it...

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(THE GHOST)

In the naked eye,
Pure death approaches!

Incredibly hollow, kick the bucket long ago
No, whiff nor smell when “THE GHOST” is around
Abuses the whiteness, in which...

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Every child is born into this world crying,
Little did this poor child know, tears would fall for the rest of her life.
Born into a world...

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Whispers of talent are carried on New England breezes
Dickinson, Hawthorne, and the Irvings’ son Washington
Though I sense a special connection to all of these
None inspired...

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His hand is strafing the castellation on his trumpet, the valves moving up down up down like deranged pistons under the random machine gun fire...

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