RED
There it is
The mark of dead
Wrecked up, messed up
Drug dealer, car fixer
Poorer than dirt
Up to the neck in man hurt
...track B
Brown
Tiny, original
The mark of birth
Successed up, dressed up
CEO, Someone you know
Richer than stone
On the top floor, only one door
...to original
White
Enveloped, concealed
NOOOOOO
My car has dents, cheap, paid in full
...but red
FAILURE, a marker of sorts
Broken, beaten, damaged
But the chassis isn't bent
...point A to destiny
It is good
Written by Trudy Schrader on 01-10-2023
Key: Worked at D.M.V.
Categories:
drug dealer, recovery from,
Form: Free verse
I believe we make our own world wherever we are
Living in a cozy, little house in a neighborhood
I live close to a drug dealer, a snob, and a recluse,
None of whom, apparently, wish me any good.
I could whine, and let them make me miserable,
I could immerse myself in their puddles of poo,
But I choose to go about my life without concern
What the people in the next block think and do.
I mind my own business, live in a peaceful world
Anymore, I don’t even watch the evening news
I go about my business trying to live a good life
I don’t need aggravation from some stranger’s views.
My motto is “live and let live,” just give me a break
I am not judgmental, so try to treat me with grace.
Leave my property alone, do not my belongings take,
And if you have something to say, say it to my face!
Written October 18, 2022
Categories:
drug dealer, how i feel, perspective,
Form: Rhyme
I learned that my daughter's old boyfriend was a drug dealer.
He was a scumbag who turned out to be a cold blooded killer.
When I learned how bad that he is, I made my daughter break up with him.
That made the punk extremely angry and that's when things became grim.
One night, he came on my property and burned my house down.
It burned and burned, it burned to the ground.
The fire fighters were able to rescue me, It was a close shave.
They tried to rescue my family but sadly, they couldn't be saved.
When the fire started, a neighbor saw that punk running away from my house,
She was both happy and proud to testify against that psychopathic louse.
Unless your family was murdered, you can't possibly understand my fury.
I was so happy to hear the word "Guilty" from the foreman of the jury.
Ever since I lost my wife and daughter, life has been a living hell.
I'm having to live in misery but at least that punk is rotting in jail.
Categories:
drug dealer, boyfriend, daughter, death, fire,
Form: Rhyme
"Kevin"
Drug buy,
for one it went good.
Drug buy,
for one it went bad.
You see Kevin,
wore high heeled sneakers.
You see Kevin,
was his junkies' keeper.
But one day;
the junkie didn't have it,
so Kevin didn't give it,
but the junkie had to have it,
but Kevin didn't get it.
So when his beeper beeped beeped,
the Junkie popped popped.
And when his beeper beeped beeped.
his heart beat beat,
"Stopped."
______________________________________________________________
“In Truth, He Lies”
(Kevin’s Funeral)
Preacher screams,
"He's goin’ to heaven",,
Kendra cries,
"Wake up Kevin",,
Momma sighs,
"Baby, don't cry",,
Grandma weeps,
"Kevin's asleep",,
Grandpa states,
"Resting his eyes",,
But when Momma screams,
"wake up Kevin",,
Grandpa weeps,
and then we all cry,
But to me,
It don't matter none.
Whether Kevin's in Hell,
for what he's done.
But the truth is,
Kevin lies.
In that casket,
before my eyes,
And the coffin keeps,
such still remains.
But will the coffin keep,
what still remains?
NoelsArt
Comments: Above is a poem about Kevin, a drug dealer. Added this week is Kevin’s Funeral poem. FEEDBACK WELCOME
Categories:
drug dealer, 12th grade, city, death,
Form: Rhyme
"Kevin"
Drug buy,
for one it went good.
Drug buy,
for one it went bad.
You see Kevin,
wore high heeled sneakers.
You see Kevin,
was his junkies' keeper.
But one day;
the junkie didn't have it,
so Kevin didn't give it,
but the junkie had to have it,
but Kevin didn't get it.
So when his beeper beeped beeped,
the Junkie popped popped.
And when his beeper beeped beeped.
his heart beat beat,
"Stopped."
NoelsArt
Comments: Above is a poem about Kevin, a drug dealer. It’s from a series of Kevin poems. I like to perform this poem. FEEDBACK WELCOME
Categories:
drug dealer, 10th grade, black african
Form: Rhyme
Escobar
Columbia was a team full of promise, on the rise
Their relationship with El Padrino they could not disguise
Drug money accepted under threat of demise
No choice take the Gold or your family dies
You’d think choosing money and life would be wise
Yet the result is an entire country that cries
Two very different men with the same last name
One shot dead because his team lost a game
The other a drug dealer who loved money and fame
Many thought Pablo was the one we should blame
No matter who for Andreas the result was the same
The end result brought the beautiful game great shame.
Both men were shot dead but will be long remembered
One for the own goal his unfortunate foot tendered
One for the agony his reign of terror once rendered
Columbia’s soccer teams soul has now been mended
For the whole country I hope their showing is splendid
World Cup soccer contest
17/06/2018
Categories:
drug dealer, remember, sad, soccer,
Form: Rhyme
He buys his drugs just to get high
Never thinkiing he might die.
He pays his money takes the dope;
He still believes--this is his hope.
He's nineteen, he's really just a boy
He buys his drugs, searches for joy.
He lies motionless in a hospital bed
He's all hooked up; his brain is dead.
He stops breathing, his fight is done
The angels take his spirit home.
Now it's you, strolling down the street
It's your drug dealer you hope to meet.
Ask yourself before you get high--
Could this be your night to die?
Kids are dying, left and right
Overdose the conmmon plight.
Your dealer's the devil, he don't care
When you lay dying, he ain't there.
Dec 16/17
D H Loewen
Categories:
drug dealer, addiction, drug,
Form: Couplet
Good evening, how are you?
Would you like a cup of tea?
Please relax, have a seat, and
Enjoy a cup with me.
It’s been a while since we last talked
About your curious life,
Those are beautiful pictures of your kids,
With your beautiful wife.
I’m really glad your job is great, and
The garden ‘round your house is grand,
And it’s good to see you have a horse
On your own little block of land.
Now, here’s the bags you ordered,
Filled with pills, and ice and dope,
You can always count on me, your drug dealer,
To sell your soul so you can cope.
Categories:
drug dealer, conflict, drug,
Form: Quatrain
I once brought home a friend,
of the African American persuasion.
My Mom approached me and then,
asked me the following questions.
"Who is he?"
she asked me,
"Is he your drug dealer friend?"
"That's racist Mom,"
I went on,
"and a horrible thing to say.
He's a very close friend of mine,
whom I've known for a long time,
so put your money away."
Categories:
drug dealer, mother, drug,
Form: Rhyme
I've been raped
I went from FBI agent to a drug dealer
All those years in college and still no job because Iam black
My new gang colors is the American flag with the stain red blood. The blood that I shed to work so hard to live a comfortable life.
I've been rape from a job
I've been raped out of my education
I've been raped out of a place to live
I've been raped out of my religion
Then had the nerve to come in my face and ask who side Iam on
Christian or Muslim
I've been raped out of the color of my skin
I've been raped out of my wages
I've been raped out of graduation
I've been raped out of spending time with family
I've been raped out of spending time with friends
I've been raped out of health care
I've been raped out of voting
I've been raped
I've been raped
I've been raped
I've been raped out of life
So who left paying the cost!
Me!
By: Shaniki Smith
Date: February 16, 2016
Categories:
drug dealer, voice, drug,
Form: Dramatic Verse
My name is not Tony Montana
No I'am not a nature born killer
The heroine is not embedded in my veins
I'am always drug free like the quote states
ride or die
don't get high off your own supply
My name is not Tony Montana
I'am not a gangster
I'am that Bruce Lee the one you don't want to mess with
One blow to the head and the second blow to the chest
consider yourself knocked out
For sure I have skillz like that
My name is not Tony Montana
Tattoo this to your forehead
No wankster
No gangster
No drug dealer
Check the profile I hit the school books
not the streets
I know how to say no to situation that may cause destruction
in my life
No my name is not Tony Montana
Say no to drugs
Say yes to school and a job
So you can have a healthy stable life
Categories:
drug dealer, betrayal, confusion, death, deep,
Form: Verse
My name is not Tony Montana
No, I'am not a nature born killer
The heroine is not embedded in veins
I'am always drug free like the quotes states
ride or die don't get
high off your own supply
My name is not Tony Montana
I'am not a gangsters
I'am that Bruce Lee the one you don't want to mess with
One blow to the head and the second blow to the chest
consider yourself knocked out
For sure I have skillz like that
My name is not Tony Montana
Tattoo this to your forehead
No wankster
No drug dealer
No gangster
Check the profile I hit the school books
not the streets
I know how to say no to a situation
that may cause destruction in my life
No my name is not Tony Montana
Say no to drug
Say yes to school and a job
So you can have a healthy stable life
By Shaniki Smith
Date: April 17, 2016
Categories:
drug dealer, absence, death, emotions, fear,
Form: Verse
To escape your reality,
you tend to sleep your days away.
Yet at night, you prowl dark alleys
where scary shadows go to play.
The night air reeks of foul odors,
masking the scent of cheap cologne.
And paranoia bows your head;
in hopes that you'll be left alone.
You find your drug dealer lurking
behind a smelly garbage bin.
And he's eying you with contempt;
while wearing a cynical grin.
Sneering, he demands more money;
for a few grams of stepped-on dope.
And yet, your need outweighs the cost;
so you swallow your pride and cope.
Drugs use deceit and illusion;
to camouflage a life of tears.
And instantly, all of your pain;
just magically disappears.
Categories:
drug dealer, abuse, addiction, angst, anxiety,
Form: Quatrain
I am an African
Not black, not colored
Definitely not a *****.
Do not call me out of my name for I am not what you think I am.
Am I that black man in the streets
That doesn't know
What to do
And where to go
Am I that drug dealer
Roaming late at night
That's looking for that cop
So that I can start a fight
Am I that parent
That was looking for that thrill
But now has to pay child support
And can't even pay my bills
Am I that brother
That walks all around town
That should have his head up
But always has it down
NO I am an African.
Categories:
drug dealer, africa, black african american,
Form: Free verse
Dispicable me
Need I not say
Just learn to play the game
Hit one out of the park
Now living in the 18th century in the dark
Being forced to use your imagination again
Do you wish for quality or quanity?
Nothings cured...
It can only be managed
So you go to your legal drug dealer
Sign your name on blank paper in blood
Now call it even
All drugs legal or not are corupting your very soul
No stopping the enevitable
No dealer has safety as a main priority
Its just a frustrating vicous cycle
Oh, at least your laundries done
While coming undone
Do up the buttons
But nothing matches
You begin to lose sense of reality
Your surroundings are just a fuzzy glare
Pumped full of enough pills to knock out an elephant
Attempting to reases your enviroment
While other beings are playing toss with your brain
You can feel your brain going on short circut wires
An electrical storm is ragging in your mind
In hopes to find the ancient relm of a lost civilization
But there hidden in the many layers (of skin)
Just watch out before someone pulls the pin from this deadly granade
In hopes of winning this war
But there's no horizen
Your minds still playing tricks on you
Categories:
drug dealer, life, drug,
Form: Prose Poetry
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