I appear overhead, staring astonishingly below,
the redness violating the blond flocked flow.
Pain etched across the once innocent, but worn complexion,
23 years I feel, far too short of a section.
Moving freely to study closer, glimpsing at the familiar,
until a door crashes in and interrupts my similar.
The shrieks and screams deafening, somebody warn her,
I shuffle back to the safety of the corner.
An old lady enters shocked to the core, she drops to her knees,
from this point onwards, her heart will begin to freeze.
The 3 men surround both old and young, all inconsolable in grief,
gently holding and fixing her hair, closing the eyes of disbelief.
The grey old lady prays aloud, perhaps to turn back the fate,
the blood in the bath illustrates this is much too late.
I wander easily around, gazing at the distorted faces,
an urgent plea in me, wishes to grant all their graces.
This is not how I imagined my pain free end,
the scale of the scene dawns, I start to comprehend.
All of this carnage from one little razor,
how tormented they must feel, ‘nothing could faze her’.
Overhead, staring agonisingly down, the time seems so slow,
it is my family I see hugging my lifeless body below.
Oh to turn back time, to that moment of madness,
my life I have given, for that addictive sadness.
My family is heartbroken, now I know that feeling,
you see my addiction, it truly was a master at concealing.
I have no more words, for I am in disbelief too,
staring at my lifeless body, thinking of the life I had yet to do.
I must go now and take in my new surreal,
but world pay heed, destructive addictions can be this real.
Who in their right mind, would set this out as life,
to live their days on edge, the edge of a sharpened knife.
I belong now to the streets, worn out and alone,
Looking from afar, I wonder to the warmth of home.
I think on my deeds for addiction, only for it to return,
the possibility of hell for me, for eternity to burn.
As I huddle here upon the street, I seem to cause you friction.
You, the world, pass me by without care or conviction.
In the days of old, when I was new to born,
you wished for me a life of full, just like Christmas morn.
But the days have passed, the stress etched upon my face,
soon I’ll be gone from here, gone without a trace.
Addictions don’t take lightly, alcohol, drugs or gambling,
for you may spend your life on darkened streets rambling.
I have 15 years on the street now, I think this to be true,
praying only for memories, of the family I once knew.
Instead, all I hear repeating, my addiction is the call,
I have no choice to answer, even though it caused my fall.
I wander on the streets now, all of them I know,
my rugged appearance illustrates, how badly this time does flow.
Maybe one day we will be united, all of us together,
spend our time in happiness, in the time of forever.
But for now I’ll continue on, through the streets so bold,
searching for the memories, that surely I must hold.
An Addicts Poem by author Declan J Mc Laughlin is a collection of short, one-page poems focusing on a variety of dependencies, including gambling and forms of substance abuse. Each poem has a rhyming structure throughout. The tone is simple, straightforward, and easy to understand. The seventeen-poem assemblage is enlightening and helps one to see where others may be coming from who are in the throes of addiction or are in the process of trying to get back to themselves.
Top reviewer Erin Nicole Cocrane for Readers' Favorite' ;
"Author Declan J Mc Laughlin’s An Addicts Poem woke me up. I had a few favorite lines, specifically, “through distant eyes we wonder, we seek”. The feeling I get from this wraps me up and leads me right into another person’s world. As well as, “I’m crawling to my gallows”, which just punches me right in the heart with every kind of empathy a person should feel. Addiction is a slippery slope, and in my opinion, I feel that none of us are spared from it. There may be different degrees to which we engage in our addictions, or different levels of harm that we might encounter. An example being someone who exercises every day. You might think that’s not an addiction because we consider exercising to be healthy and needed. But when you take it to an extreme, you try to outdo the day before, and it can be unhealthy for your body because the body needs to rest. Take it from someone who ended up with plantar fasciitis and could barely walk for three months. Addiction affects us all, in one way or another, and that’s why I feel this book is so important for everyone to read, because it makes a difference; it’s human relating to human. "
Best Selling Author Lacey London ;
"Every so often you stumble across something that makes you change the way you think"
An addicts poem is also available now in all major ebook stores online and through the amazon website.
Click here to get your copy now.
For other online digital stores click here.