Don’t think I can get enough of you
Racing through my veins and making my heart beat hard and fast
Until I feel I might explode from the feeling of pure bliss
Grinning, I whisper into your ear, “Give me another hit.”
Don’t think I can get enough of you
Racing through my veins and making my heart beat hard and fast
Until I feel I might explode from the feeling of pure bliss
Grinning, I whisper into your ear, “Give me another hit.”
Corruption pulsed within his veins energizing his desire to do wrong
Extracting money from the misery and oppression around him
Leaving him to live a life of luxury built upon the pain of others
Losing his soul bit by bit behind the bars of inhumanity
Varicose veins climbed his legs like a trellis
It had purple blossoms of bruises to give that bit extra artistic something
Nothing he did seemed to help with the aches and pains
Except the thought of even at his age something of beauty was still growing within
Cognac on the rocks was her drink of choice
Until about three in the morning, then she would bounce to bourbon
Both ice cold, just like the blood in her veins
Especially as she tossed the dice one last time with everything on the line.
Heather tried to just walk away
Every part of her screamed for her to do so
And yet she ran towards the trouble
Reaching out to help those mired in its grasp
To make a difference while blood still pumped through her veins
Image: c1.staticflickr.com/1/4/5101812_f16cd13f6b_b.jpg
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
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Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
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