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Jason Smith Poem
I’ll lose a friend tomorrow.. but he won’t die..
not his physical body but maybe inside..
by something he can easily find.
He doesn’t see it coming but I do, like he knew,
so we’d use,
I would stop but he’d refuse,
its GOT YOU MAN..
its got you. …. Truth.
Abuse without a bruise,
one hit can lead to repercussions.
Reefer, Speed n Uppers, feed the fiend, see empty cupboards.
I said ‘you should get some sleep’ but he disagreed cuz he is stubborn.
he said ‘PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE TO SUFFER.’
I lost a friend today and I did nothing.
But he didn’t die.
It was more like living on thin ice
in a glass house pipe
with a rock on standby
for a damned life
he’s willing to just throw away for a high price
but the sad thing is he can afford it. … What about your daughter?
… and what we talked about as kids… and what will I tell mine?
YOURE NOT THE SAME ANYMORE.
He said he was clean but he lied,
I could see it in his pride and the bags under his eyes
and that car stereo case by his side.
I lost a friend yesterday… but he didn’t die.
The drugs took him… and I never got to say goodbye.
Copyright © Jason Smith | Year Posted 2026
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Details |
Jason Smith Poem
I’ve only been alive for 4 weeks…
The reborn concrete leaf…
I’ve loved, been loved, done drugs, tried suicide once, got lucky and even had a birthday once.
I’ll be 28 in 12 months.. Time flies when your dyin, huh?
Ive counted many things on my fingers through an 8 year winter and when I got to 10 I decided to mind my own business which kept me on my toes, it was in my best interest.
Tall tales, 6ft, 2 inches, stretched to my limit, tryin’ to fit the 4 weeks into 2 minutes.. Limit sickness. But every fall counts and from the top of the tree to the ground is around about 0 to 3 6’s, I couldn’t climb any higher. The devil in me told me when somethings broken, you don’t fix it.. N he’s a good liar.
The angel on my shoulder is whispering in my ear but its too quiet, I listen close and he says you’re like a puppet show without the wires, all this self manipulation and lack of maintenance is makin’ me tired and my chipped tooth is PROOF that I’ll quit before I retire.
I’m damaged goods wrapped in fragile pride for the next buyer and I feel real sorry for the next poor girl who decides to buy it.. No refunds, bitches, this auction is silent, keep some dignity for your troubles after all that hard work before I kill you with kindness. By the way that opportunity won’t come cheap so I’ll start the timer. 200 heart beats per minute, anxiety is my secret admirer.
4 weeks as a survivor…
I know its too late now, but I heard its best to just keep some things private.
Copyright © Jason Smith | Year Posted 2026
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