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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

This is about my best friend in the whole world, and his descent into drugs.
He's not okay yet, but I haven't lost faith in him.
There's a second section to the 'saga' called Ascent, please ask if you'd like me to upload it.


Part One: Beginning of the End

I live within a double standard
You beat me to the ground
You create yourself with the same standards
And call yourself profound
Your sickest shit, the longest game
It never has an end
I play along, you sit on top
I try so hard to bend for you.
For you to treat me like this,
I stood by you way too long
\"I'm gonna quit, this is it\"
now that all our love is gone.
Say what you have, repent yourself
I don't give a shit
Be a dick, defend yourself
I don't give a shit.
You won't grow up, you're gonna die
You won't see 25.
Yet you stand here and convince us
You want to live in your own lie

Part Two: Finality

We watch you die
And you refuse our hands
To help you up
To save your life
But instead
We are forced to watch you die
Like an animal
As an undeserving person.
I'll miss what you were
But never what you became.
The pain you put us through
Almost as bad as what you put yourself
Your breath becomes forced, as do
Our words of pity.
And one day
Your casket will be closed
By the most ironic of figures.

Part Three: Leaving

The clergy of your nightmares
Will be the final one to ever touch
Your cold, dead body.
And as I weep for your early passing
I feel the most sadistic pain of
\"I told you so, you fucking dumbass.\"
Change your ways
or this saga shall become a reality.
Change your ways
Or my fear shall become your fate.
Change your ways
Or even the ones who stood by you
Shall desert you.
And then who do you have?
Your friends consist of the pill bottle
From which your addiction rose
And your pipe of horrid liquid
From which your addiction died,
With you.

Part Four: Oblivion

And though you shall never read it
If you'ÂÂd like, I could place this on your deathbed
But you shall never read it's pain.
For even if you did, you wouldn't see
The burdens you caused upon the people close to you.
But please continue
As you turn the most blind of eyes
To your addiction
To your friends
To your love
To me.
You were once the closest thing I had.
And you could say the same
But everything youâÂÂve done
Alienated both of us from each other
So farewell, for this is the end.
Destruction, thy name is
Goodbye, my love.

Submitted: October 04, 2008

© Copyright 2021 lawlotovcocktail. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Nicholas Watson

You have a pretty good idea, but the flow of the poem is shaky sometimes and the rhythm was a little off to me. I never really suggest using cuss words or putting too much anger into it.
These are some good questions right before you write:
What do I want to write about? Why should anyone care? What should people feel, see, or know when they read my poem or story?

Sat, October 4th, 2008 12:49pm


I agree quite strongly with you. I rarely use anger as a main theme, but I was originally never planning to show this poem to anyone. It was mainly cathartic, hence the pure anger and hate.
I usually don't think about things before writing them, and I seldom edit them.
You do give some great advice though, it's really nice to get some feedback from an experienced writer. Thanks (:

Sat, October 4th, 2008 1:52pm


i really liked it alot.i can understand it,its reality and thats coming from a recovering addict.

Sun, October 5th, 2008 3:47am


cool (:

Sun, October 5th, 2008 11:14am

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