black 'n' red dreadlocks,
bedroom door deadlocked,
tape over the hinges,
so nobody see's syringes,
sittin' there twitchin',
flinchin', itchin', inchin',
closer to the rope,
so i can shoot my dope,
make my veins pop,
make my blood clot,
make my heart stop,
make my body flop,
with my black 'n' red dreadlocks,
and my bedroom door deadlocked.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your poems intrigue me. I haven't read a poem about shooting up before. Quite unique and well written.