Long Heroin Poems
Long Heroin Poems. Below are the most popular long Heroin by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Heroin poems by poem length and keyword.
There is never an ending
to the spending
a world of paper
and plastic to collect
and horde
clothes
and cars
and homes
and jewelry
and fine wine
and paintings
stocks and bonds
vacations
and expectations
entire vocations
devoted to
disguising the numbers
the Caribbean masquerade
to volumes of recorded
purchases and voices
of invoices
making
discreet
choices
all
to extend
the accumulation
of dates
and names
places and faces
communications
and connections
at breakneck
speed
must fill the need
must fill the need
a shouting browbeating
broadband
handing over
fistfuls of cash
to make sure
make certain
only the best
the finest
the rarest
of air is not available
for
the underwater martyrs
the silent box dwellers
the empty bottle collectors
the wheelchair drifters
the SRO limbo sellers
the workers at
the bottom
of the
fast
food
chain
and the indigent gamblers
who line the halls
to knock on doors
of government departments
crippled by reckless
and corrupt state
administrations
choking the dwindling
sources
and resources
that have
nothing to do
but
count the days
and ways
to disappoint
disarm dismay
dispute the reputations
and applications
held in sweaty palms
eager
to begin living
to end the doubt
to end the not having
the counting of pennies
the slow heroin erosion
the unbroken hollowness
the whiskey-soaked
ravages of vacant histories
better-forgotten memories
of cold emergency rooms
to end being
in a world
apart
a world
of resentment
of fear and hate and anger
of dark empty streets
empty recriminations
empty promises
made to themselves
by themselves
harming themselves
or
arming themselves
to rob to steal
to maim
to take whatever they can
for as long as they can
to approximate
the wonder and magic
of having what you need
when you need it or want it
to not have to beg
to not have to humiliate
or be humiliated
to not have to watch
the ease of others
who have a casual
contempt for misfortune
and respect for nothing
but their own wealth
of deception
to breeze through
tall golden doors
to an unbroken string
of shiny bright todays
and tomorrows
to not have to
lunge for hope
and
never grasp it
in all ways
and forever
just out of
reach
It all started as fun like it usually does
Back when she was a great girl who'd always been beautifully loved
Way back before she'd been brutally touched
She goes out weekly and has a few drink like most teens
She doesn't let boys get close, only in their dreams
She goes to university to try and make her future career better
One day she gives in to peer pressure
She's scared when alone, but they don't feel Fear together
Her friends pressure her into popping pills
Now the world is not as real
She's feels high but low at the same time
Trying to think, but is struggling with her mind
She leaves the bar with a strange guy, who spoke kind words
There's no harm in a little flirt
Is what her friends say, but that night he gets her out of her skirt
Takes her home, but never calls back
Her whole confidence, begins to fall flat
Now she's doing lines of cocaine almost daily
Her and her friends haven't spoke lately
She's going off the rails, her friends should be keeping her on track
This is when her whole world starts to turn black
She used to say she'd only give a chance to a man who treats her
But her new man, disrespects and beats her
She knows her time is coming, she doesn't have long left
She keeps taking the wrong steps
Her dreams are broken and faith's lost
Her teeth are rotting and she's had a severe weight loss
We all know how enjoyable sex is
But she doesn't enjoy it, she's sleeping around for her next fix
As long as she gets the drugs she doesn't care about being respected
She's happy to continue destroying the beauty she was blessed with
There's places she doesn't want to visit on her next trip
She's not into small talk or sharing the facts
She's just doing what she can, for her next heroin bag
Her man beats her worse than before, because he finds out she has aids
No new beginning
No happy ending
No chance of winning
She's almost at the end of the chapter on her page
She's never been suicidal
But she's been caught in a vicious cycle
She grabs the knife and cuts until she bleeds
Tears in her eyes, right before her heart no longer beats
I wrote this based off the world we live in, so this girl doesn't exist
But there are plenty of true stories just like this
I wish this had a happy ending, because this girl was meant to set the world alight
But it's a sad story of how drugs ruined a girls life
Just a lonely depressed, emotional, lost girl who doesn't know what to do. I'm confused but I'm kinda happy guess it depended on if I was dope sick.. I didn't start using big stuff as in oxycotin Roxy's until I was 19-20 years old I just started out snorting then it got to the point I couldn't feel them that way anymore. I was then introduced to heroin af first I was like this is nothing then I done more atleast a half gram I loved it.. My addiction kept getting worse!! Before I knew it I was stealing from my parents and grandpa and in all honesty I didn't have to steal they would have just given me the money.. Once I turned 22 my life changed I was not the same person I once was, that was very hard and difficult because my niece and nephew's looked up to me we done everything together until my parents found out I was shooting up heroin they never thought that their babygirl would ever do that!! I was shocked also. But after a few months I got really bad off I would rob and steal from people mainly family. I was doing atleast 2 grams of heroin every four or five hours. It made me feel awesome, amazing every time I would do a shot all my pain physically and emotionally would go away it was like nothing else mattered!! I could enjoy my day/night with my family mainly nieces and nephews til one morning I woke up with the worse body cramps,vomiting, pooping all over the place voices in my head the devil wanted me. I was slowly killing myself I was ready to give up. I begged cried everything for someone to help me.. Ii just wanted to live my life without drugs but that was my escape from everything. When me n my sister was younger we was molested once we grew up it haunted us,then right before my 18th bday I was raped by someone I had a previous relationship with when I was 14 took him to court the judge believed him over me and I had prove!! I just didn't know what i done so wrong to deserve everything. I had a lot going on didnt know how to cope with it all so i agreed to go a treatment center to get help. Spent 3 weeks in there everything from my past haunting me, couldn't sleep eat or anything finally after a week and half of treatments i was sent home with medicine to help me but I was still physically, emotionally not there but I was clean n sober for the time being.. Life isn't easy.. This is a life of an addict, surviver
(Part Two, Continued)
The better choice of the two, I believe is clear enough even for the ignorant.
Everyday a new adventure in human psychology, pain, and suffering.
allowed the privilege to interact with an endless array of human variety.
This disease knows no race, gender, class, sexuality, or political affiliation.
afflicting far more than the deranged few, as some would have you believe
a stereotype of persons with addiction, to create distance from the disease
It is possible that every living human, knows, or is related to someone afflicted.
Denying to acknowledge their loved ones condition, is the definition of ignorant.
It seems only fitting that the cause of our modern day's massive rise in addiction
Heroin, so numerous in its effects, stronger than any before, and more addicting
Is the direct descendant of man's original addictive remedy, the Opium Poppy.
The worlds percentage of heroin addicted persons, passing epidemic proportions
nothing in our lifetimes has possessed this level of destructive power.
society barely managed to subdue and heal from the international Opium problem
The fact an implication of how difficult this new epidemic will be to stop
A terrible time to be an addict, but prosperous for entrepreneurial persons
Maybe this is my chance to increase my level of success in my current hustle
I have the ability, knowledge, and connections to be a true kingpin.
However, one constant continuously holds me firmly at my current level of success
Held back so long by addiction, I finally realize the extent of my enslavement
If I didn't have to support an immense and ever increasing drug habit
Long ago, I would have reached the level of extreme wealth and riches
I am embarrassed to admit the expense of my extremely costly past time
But, I will say with honesty the number spent resides in the millions
And, that is at distribution cost, purchasing quantity at a wholesale discount
Unaware and not wanting to know the true cost if bought at street price.
An entire lifetimes of earned yearly salaries, injected into my plump veins.
More money has gone into my veins, than into many millionaires bank accounts
If they hadn't been used to chase a short and fleeting sensation and feeling,
I would be among one of the richest individuals I know, without a doubt.
Let's play a game, shall we?
It's a fun little number I like to call
"Do I miss you because I love you,
or because you're my brain's scar tissue?"
Let's review the facts, shall we?
You're a spoiled NEET who took pleasure from my pain
From making me bend over backwards
And watching my free will vanish
Like a parasite, you latch on to everyone
Begging for gifts and food like a child
Passive-aggressively plotting when you don't get your way
And everyone gives in to get you to shut up
By all accounts, you're a horrible person
So tell me why, tell me why
Why do you still haunt my dreams at night?
Why does the thought of losing you still hurt me so?
You're like heroin
Because man, doing lines of you through the night
Was the greatest high when the trip was fine
And the comedown was so fierce
So here I lay, sweating yet freezing
Dope sick and hungover after the greatest afterparty
Craving another hit to feel the ceiling again
Gently gnawing on my twelfth step chip
But you weren't always that way, you know
The love we shared was once pure
And each day was a blessing that I'd give so much to return to
And I think that's the you that I miss
But hey, that person died two years ago
You wore her skin so well that I didn't realize
That I still had a body to bury
Before you skinned it and wore it
More often than not, it's the pure memories I recall
When I'm clutching my phone with my thumb above the send key
And another withdrawal pang hits my temple
And jolts my thumb to the clear key
So where are you now?
I can't imagine I'm in a much better place right now
Eating my fourth cup of cup noodles tonight
Poring over a broth stained essay
It's comforting to share a pitiful existence with you
Because in a weird way, I feel more connected with you than ever
Sharing a loving, tender kiss across time and space
As we both scoop the last shrimp from the bottom of the cup
But each cup leads me closer to my dream
As you stagnate at home
Self-actualization is a difficult concept to measure
But your NEET dream dies with the last of your savings
The sun rises and the glare from the screen hits my eyes
Another frosty December morning
Through the sight of the rising sun and the scars you left behind
For now at least, you and I are forever intertwined.
If I were to believe in you, would you believe in me?
If everything that I promised you actually came to be
If I were a beautiful rainbow, a reflection in the sky
Formed by the rays of light as your tears you cried
Sweetheart I am just a simple man with a complex plight
My blessing is you’re here with me, as this quest I fight
Sweetheart you know I’m a warrior, though I live like a ghost
I fight and write living my plight, inside the belly of the host
From shore to shore, a forever war, that will never end
Just today I got the word the host has taken another friend
Another soul another goal of course another wasted life
God I am a lucky man to have become one with my wife
Pains insane it shreds my brain and tears my heart into
I’m left here asking myself, “Was there anything I could do”
I have to write a eulogy though I just don’t know what to say
Here is a soul, another hole, for someone who lost his way
Sobriety is really great but at times it is truly rather hard
You watch them take another friend and plant him in the yard
Another smoke, another joke another party has reached its end
Here I sit in a spiritual pit feeling totally lost about my friend
I hope someday someone reads what I say, takes another course
Pass on doing that shot, love it or not, death upon the black tar horse
So I shall write my Eulogy falling to pieces about my friend
Who made fun of the man I turned out to be, until the very end
But that’s ok it was just his way, right up until the day he died
The one true light shinning bright, lives inside of you and I
So will all of you join with me let your spirits pen my words
About a beautiful soul, who found his goal, flying with the birds
------------------------------------------------------------------
Very few people in this life that I love enough to let make fun
of the changes I made in my life. Addiction (The Host) took 6
friends in 2007, 5 in 2008 and this is the first in 2009. He didn't
overdose he was shot a couple of days ago in Chico, Ca during
a home invasion robbery over his heroin debt. I used to always
pay his debts when it reached this point with bags of Meth. This
time I couldn't go there for him and now he is dead. This is my
life, my gift and my curse. God Bless you all, mj
What is this world coming to ,many falling short,some snort cocaine, or shoot heroin up their vain,some kidnap, some kill, some take pain killers, to kill the pain, why not throw the governments advil down the drain, and call the lords name,many fall short of who they should become, to the door of success they have lost the key ,they were focus on drug,pain,fame,money,anger,and the enemy, truly some times you become your only true enemy, What has this world become, many succumb to the cold,people sell their soul for riches and gold, behind curtains ,dark,dusty,filthy and demonic story's hidden, but secretly heard through the grape vine, I contemplate as I sip my grape wine. The youth in my world dose not take time, to take shine, I will be sure to take mine, we must accomplish something, before the doctors say flat line, the world is fading away in gloomy clouds filled with ruins and trash bins, where is the janitor, who seeks the janitor and savior, the ruler of our lives, the lord he can clean it all up, but still no one looks up and pray, or just simply say lord help me today, instead ignorance display as many disobey his commandments in every way.So today I must say, this world is heading to destruction, drowning in the devils concoction, hot lava eruption of failure and destruction, lead by corruption, interruption, the devils seeds, they grow in souls until they bleed, our world is starved and can't breath, or exceed these evil deeds and creeds, on top of this heat I pray, on thin ice.Parents struggle, to pay the rent, there back is bent, how much can the poor vent, to the government, the food in the fridge is little and a little child in the room, falling to sleep on a empty stomach,in a empty world,the only thing he had to eat, was the words of his mothers hope ,as she trys to cope down this slippery slope,of the devils soap. What is the world coming to, black on black crime, with little education how can you define, the true sublime image of life, the government suppresses and undresses us in the cold, I am tired success is bob wired by the governments structure ,the structure is poor, no wonder we see people laying on the city's floor, In this world I have nightmares , wake up the better image, what has this world become..........
Say this out loud...
5/9/2012
Sweet dreams are fantastic and enchanting,
The golden wings of brightness are quite chanting,
The natural beauty of songbirds is like fairy dust,
In this dream, I broke down with joy and bust.
Oh, dream! The ominous curved shape was not scary,
Chimera! The vampire seemed merry,
Then the classic scary stigma of horror vampire,
Fear of satanic blasphemy grew as a damper.
Oh! I closed my eyes in horror at that terrible sight!
His hypnotic eyes stopped the trembling, awe-inspiring flight!
The Vampiric myth unsolved puzzle may be resolved tonight,
My heart raced as the ego chiseled my family's artistic heights.
There is tranquility and calmness in my head,
Trying to remember how beatific this time is ahead,
I am grateful to God for my golden vision,
which appears to be a wonderful envision.
A mysterious traveler from our odd planet,
At home, into the magical realm of sleep gamut,
In a dream, I filled out a waiver and escaped Vietnam,
And I joined the National Guard, my favorite aplomb.
My favorite subject at school was English Literature,
Dad said math and science were vital, not litterateur,
I focused on calculus and left grammar to my proclivity,
I learned to design technical visuals, not creatively.
We were labeled "baby boomers," but we were war babies,
It ensures the happiness of possible rivals abides,
Living in America exposed me to a touch of pioneer history,
Technology and industry drive us forward through mystery.
The dream ceased without falling for the intelligentsia,
She freed me from lethargy by having me fight inertia,
Without her, I could have abused booze and heroin,
It's simpler to surrender to laziness than to be a heroine.
I rode the conveyor to the consulting to provide luxury,
I wrote finance and tech books to show I hump Riff Poetry,
Now I am in search of mystical sights and cosmic vibes,
When the writing is over, I shall resume painting the jibes.
The most exciting dreams are abruptly interrupted,
When the sun's rays approached, rouse erupted,
Appealing experiences, from a need for sleep,
More people assumed occult esoteric creep.
1ST place contest winner
Written: September 15, 2022
The Mystical Dream Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
I once asked auntie, ‘why oh why.
Don’t your relatives come to us?
We could have a nice service.
And spread the ashes in the sea!’
Auntie smiled at me that day.
As she gave that last ash filled package away.
And everyone was so kind too.
As handed an envelope to auntie for the next auntie’s ashes true.
Anyway she told me, ‘it would be wrong’
As her way, all have a fair share.
Well, I could not argue with that, could I?
As I seen the scales, she weighs auntie’s ashes on there.
By there I mean in her room.
From which I’m banned. I must confess.
As if I go in, while auntie is weighing one day.
The draft from the door would blow auntie auntie’s ashes away.
Now my morphine is kicking in.
I’ve had an idea to mention here.
If our country have got £50 million worth of good coke!
Why not sell it to addicts I quote.
They would know the dope is pure.
Would not cost so much to smoke I’m sure.
Then money from the sale could go.
To help our government’s coffers so!
The government can send more money out.
To Councils so they can have far more clout!
Oh! Auntie has asked me to find out.
If government are going to burn that dope!
As if they do, and mixed up in it.
Is some poor person who tried to swindle it!
All her relatives want to attend.
The crematorium or incinerator,
to pay their last respects,
to an unknown friend!
Auntie said. ‘All will stand well down wind.’
I tried to explain that would not be right.
But auntie had a glint in her eye.
And auntie said, ‘son, one must pay respects.
As some dope might die alone on
Now I must try and get some sleep.
As I’m driving auntie again,
tomorrow this week!!!
All that, because £50 million worth of heroin was washed up on our coast a couple of days ago. As you can imagine auntie is very upset and has taken to her room again.
I managed to get downstairs sitting on my bottom one step at a time and returned the same way. I think I’m in bed to stay today. And as I look out my window, there is light covering of that cold stuff called snow, so I’m glad I’m not driving Clarence anywhere today you know. And now it’s time to have my tablets and breakfast in bed, is so. Then a third dose of morphine and to dream world I just might go. Stanley. (The new mad Author.)
Form:
Hers was a complete change of personality, moods, and friends
Her joyful happy self, turned rapidly sarcastic, mean, and secretive
Her eating habits changed; she did not need food any more.
Stopped eating with the family, painted her room black.
Threw her flute into the garbage. She had outgrown it.
Scoffed that she had ever been a cheerleader, calling them names.
Her friends stopped coming. She made new ones, they were in and out.
None stayed long. Just a few minutes.
Her family saw glimpses of her unhappiness as she ran in and out
Of her room, slamming doors, playing music, not doing her homework.
Her A’s and B’s nosedived into D’s and F’s, and she laughed about it.
Rapid distrust toward her siblings. Name-calling, which had never happened.
Stopped going to school until it was nigh onto impossible to keep up.
Sneaked out of the house at night; they never knew where she would be.
Left in cars with people she did not know. Parents blamed her friends.
It was their fault, not hers. She was their princess. She was perfect.
Secrecy became the norm. Her laughter became loud and ugly.
Her prettiness was gone; her hair was dingy. She stopped wearing deodorant.
Grandparents wondered where she was at Thanksgiving and Christmas.
They were given many lies from parents and her siblings. Everyone covering.
Not my child! They said when the possible truths were pointed out.
That does not happen in our neighborhood.
We are not that kind of parent.
Our child would never be an alcoholic or a drug addict.
The entire family circled the wagons,
refusing to join neighborhood barbeques.
The children were taught that the people at church
were do-gooders, and look-downers.
The children were taught that the neighbors
they once adored were now the enemy.
They were protecting the princess,
who seldom came home, sneaking in and out,
When they were asleep. Not in our family! They said. Not in our family!
The do-gooders and down-lookers were prominent at her funeral.
They had raised children also who had been lured into
the terrifying swallow-up world of drugs and alcohol.
They had so many stories; horrifying real life stories
they had never shared even though they had innumerable
opportunities at church functions and bar-b-ques.