Some of you mightta seen this on FB, but I figured this was probably a better place to put it, where it's all artsy people
Anyways for people who haven't seen it before - this is a poem I wrote for a very dear friend of mine. I am allowed to share it so long as their name isn't attached to the work. I know the meter and whatnot gets a little off in a few places but I've done my best and I'm open to criticism and suggestion...
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but mostly I'm proud of my ability to display the pain and stress and desperation an addict feels. Or, at least I hope I managed that ^_^; The only person who has said so is kinda biased and may or may not be my mom XD In any case, the goal of the poem is to express how much it sucks to be in the thick of an addiction and how freaking hard it is to even try to recover. Remember - not all addictions are drugs.
Alright, the poem:
I’ve met others like myself who crave things abysmal and bleak
So terrible and dark they become secrets of which to never speak
Too familiar is their sorry tale of bowing to the beck and call
Of the hand that satisfies our thirst and overthrows us all
I know too well what they feel and why their tears they cry;
The itch that must be scratched or else one feels they are to die
More unbearable than scorching heat, or a numbing, blizzard cold
The chains that grow and grow and grow, around since times of old
Their anguish I have felt and feel sometimes when I am weak,
The painful abuse dealt by the hand who owns all that we seek
Yet though it is a cruel master, we seek out this curséd hand
Who holds the chains and pulls them taut when one tries to disband
And chained we are, and chained we’ll stay, or so it ever seems
The only evident relief, eating what in the hand gleams
And always, always that ‘relief’ is a new link to our chain strong
Which at first feels so right, but slowly proves itself quite wrong
Now some will tug and pull on their chain never to succeed
Some are forced to try and break loose by a family-friend made creed
Those who will be doomed forever to this hand for their needs
But as for me, I’ll tell you this: I bite the hand that feeds.