Rehab Poem by Kewayne Wadley

I didn't learn alot in class.
I have no idea what it's like to be a Rhode scholar.
The formulas that equate every answer that involes X, Y.
I didn't have time as the hours in class rolled on by. I saw myself blinded by pride.
The lessons conversed by someone paid to read the same pages I myself could have carefully read.
I didn't have the time.
So whats the point of twelve steps.
I know.
I know the consequences of addiction. The private meetings.
The well of knowledge that surrounds every fix.
The focal point of need that surrounds my every thought.
In those times.
I miss you. wishing you'll come back swift as you can.
As I can't afford to think straight without you near.
I'd rather be there with you.
Than an institute built to make me believe I have an problem.
I refuse to go.
I shouldn't have to go.
As time won't allow.
Your heart tells me otherwise than the high paid doctors that pretend everything is gonna be okay.
Such measures force me to drink.
Drink from the well of your eyes,
a moment lost from them follows a drought of depression.
A hollow existance that withers up into nothingness.
A scientfic expression that goes without laws.
No gluten. Nothing that can be learned away from you.
You, yourself.
I won't go. I won't lose you.
You've shown me the peaceful resolve in american literture.
The civil war of your body.
The North, The South.
The flims of opium that healed the pain given from you to me inbetween the lines of war.
I don't have the time.
I'd rather be there with you.
I don't want to go to rehab.
A jolt of abstince, left in a state of shock.
Without a piece of you. Don't you think i'm fine.
I dont want to go to rehab