CLICHÉ TALES
His pants were soaking wet His face with a disheveled gaze He lived in nothing save haze On they way he had lost footing and
WHO’S TO BLAME?
I was hiding in a corner when I watched him loose it before his little kid. The way he shouted at her, treated her like
END’GAME’
It all began With the Christmas Eve fun We played hit and run And the last one hitting would always have fun It was my
Lesser humans 1
Disclaimer. The writer used lesser humans figuratively and believes no one is a lesser human. The writer is exploring and by no means endorsing. Growing
AM TIRED
Should I say am tiredCoz’ I’ve tried hardTo convinceYou quit alcoholAnd play your roleCan’t get another chanceWith no success For how long will you be
What about me?
Born out of wedlockAnd still the only childIn a poor familyWhere survival was the order of the dayMy mother was a hawkerSelling sweets and biscuitsMy
Recovery from addiction is possible.
Recovery from addiction….based on a true story.It is a journey that is easy to start and get into but hell coming out. I recall the
BE MY LAST😍
I can’t feel, you have all my feelingsI can’t think you have all my thoughtsAm weak, you have all my energyI can’t walk, being away
LET ME GO
Not that I gave upon realityI had the call to maturityI chewed my egoAnd started seeing like an eagleI mean clearlyI mean in a goo
THE WRONG ROAR.
Got so high then fell down like thunder. Tossing and turning and the head spinning with shimmers filling the air. Nothing was clear. Nothing was
