Escaping through the thorns of authority, I find the buzz, freedom.
Little or none are there worries, as I am glass to them.
No colour, no feeling, no hope, true as I am blinded by a misty haze.
I find myself continually exploring loneliness. Making friends that understand the thoughts and schemes’ I concoct.
I converse to them my hopes and dreams of riding my routine, Can’t kick the habit.
Lacking energy to spend time with the monster I’ve created, I carry on feeding of the aroma of