The skies are full of dark grey clouds.
Shadows of clouds that darken your resolve.
Your mind does not feel like your own.
Rain comes down hard and you feel so alone.
Windows take the brunt of wind and rain.
Why did I come to this dark place I disdain?
The angel of darkness is knocking at your door.
Empty bottles and syringes lay on the floor.
The lore of the fix is never ignored.
The needle and spoon are you're only reward.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem