Addict's Cry Chapter 1 Of 2 Poem by wallace eaton

A small pill dilutes his ability to function as that promising produce of society, so he is trapped, by his own disturbance from years of mis-guided lies, malnipulation, and deception. His body becomes depended on a substance.Once ground grown, but now man-made, from chemicals that detours the daily reproductive system, somehow, shut down like a physical chain linked by his self, inflicted, emotional, state of mind. Through his eyes are visions of a shattered man-hood which he himself has become a element of, mental insecurity, causes him to lash at his will to survive.As disturbing echo's reduce into a screaming cry, as the body yern for the added balance it needs to continue life. Then she came like a thief in the night, dressed in a clear body suit with a varity of head garments that marks her territoral grown, his body would whisper her name, cocaine, as she forced his physical to left her up into a pleasure filled playground hoping to escape life's pressure and stressful commitments and obligations. So he form a line or two, as if military instructed.Carefully placing distance, between each inhaling line that's set up in position.He pause, as his nose drips from the anticipation of this golden powder, somehow having destroyed generations after generations.I allow the thought to capture him for just that moment, he's stuck.