He is a weekend addict
Who needs to feel good in his life
There’s a ritual he performs
Each time he does, before he hits the pipe
Heating the glass pipe’s crystal meth
Without burning, only to liquefy
Then brushing the flame under the glass
Coaxing some smoke to rise
Inhaling quick two or three big hits
Sweat pouring from his stiff upper lip
His body starts to sway and jerk
Just on this side of having a fit
He is a weekend addict
Leading a lonesome life
Wearing a mask all week long
Then evading his internal strife
© 2011 Michael Yost
———————————————————————————————————–
*A Tweak-end addict
A tweak-end addict,
Weekend dreams,
Quickly shared
Never spoken
Extreme is the new norm
Sun up, sun down, fit or forlorn
Days run together
Making all but now the new form
Ad-infinite-eeeeeeeeee
See?
I am that guy
Fear me……..
Forget that , instead 1st try…
To picture me as reaching out
Asking u to buy
A piece of god’s compassion,
A tiny fleck of grace
Show me by your actions
Don’t spray me with your mace.
I am worth a second
Longer if u trust
That showing me true friendship
can could shall should must
rewards are never offered
lest it calls to doubt
sincerity and honor
things I live without
altruistic acts are best
when comparing deeds of yesterday
and tomorrows yet before
so give 4 love and let go
care not for where it goes
a person needy like myself,
will benefit , but then…
u know
© 2011 anonymous….
*A true response from a “tweakend friend.”
http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com/2011/08/poetry-potluck-week-48-passionate.html
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