self medicate.

a poem.

the lonely smokers on the wall,

take a drag, it cures it all.

smoothing down the frays of life,

lift us up before we fall.

what of all the pains we feel?

slit our wrists to make us real.

lost in this world of disarray;

toxic cures to help us heal.

a lonely smoker in the rain,

choke on cancer; soothe the pain.

relief today, regret tomorrow;

cough up blood to keep us sane.

the games we play, the risks we take,

our blood runs thin, our bodies shake;

self-medicate with errored ways,

but left alone our minds will break.

Author's Note

Please critique. :] Please review.

Reviews

[I Am Svetlana]

We all have our certain ways of self-medicating. Be it smoking, alcohol, self-mutilation...we do it simply to ease the pain and as you said: "...make us real." To see if we can still feel, still have emotions, still care even. It takes nearly a wiff to make us remember so many things, but it takes decades it seems like to forget them at all...also, love the rhyming and imagery in this :) Beautiful!

[Calypso]

This is very good. The rhyming adds to the poem. What you've said is very true. When you hurt so much you will do anything to make the pain stop.

[Philomela Titania Lanx]

Very very VERY good. I'm not sure that it can be made better, but I gave a 97 just in case someone catches something I didn't, although I highly doubt it. Keep it up. :)