Short Drugging Poems

flashback 
once again 
reliving 
moments past 
each time 
all to familiar old 
mental pictures 
come rushing 
back into view
drugging up 
buried emotional 
remains...

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It seems like not all the times the woods may be fresh
    and tender and muster glitter
  thus political war brokenness has become something
   like rumour or whisper or mirrage.
 Can we not find a passion to reject gross fascinations
 and drugging abuse?,
  can we not find for instance how fast the rebellion vile
   leader is thinking at the moment?, or how perhaps
  it might have been a wonderful story memory?.

   
...

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