I found some poetry I had written several months back. I wrote poetry for about two years in my late teens but quit for reason even I do not know. I have only found a dozen or so of the what seemed like hundreds I had written. I will post all I have over the next several months as an exercise in futility. My hope is it will inspire me to write more poems but who knows if it will.
This one I wrote poem back in the day(this is what one says when it is at least two decades past) that looks into the behavior that has not changed for millennium.That is the cycle of addiction and the violence that accompanies it.
The city is massive and wide
But there is no place to hide
From desperadoes in the night
Welding guns, sticks and knives
As their drug craved body’s cry for one more shot
Everything is soon lost
From their sanity to their pride
And any decency left inside
To hit the streets to find new prey
For to feed their craving they must pay
And soon some figure lies on the ground
His precious life’s blood flowing all around
And all his money and possession stripped from his being
For something that does not make sense and has no meaning
So the desperado can buy the drugs to soothe their pain
And wash over them like a cleansing rain
And so it comes to past that pain persist and does not quit
Till they fall into a dark and cold pit
To fall asleep and to never awake again
The desperadoes come to their end
To find peace at last.
Author: John Burgess