A poem I made a while back for a woman I truly love with all my heart and soul.

Poetry. Another name of this poem: Junkie.

Poetry.

For this poem, I chose to put the title in a different language for the reason that if I put the meaning in English, then the readers would just view it as a typical poem that doesn’t have much value. I try, as a poet, to always keep the viewers interested, and so I shall. This was based off of a rather deep idea that some people would die for once they know what it feels like. I gave this poem, a little of my dark style. I’ll leave it to the reader. Comments are open.

A junkie breaks into a drug dealer’s stash house.

An article I wrote.

Late nights in a diner. You know who you are.

A call for collaboration of the FREAK NATION…

During a period of down and out beatness…

Again, one hell of a week…