Arts, creative writing, Life skills, poetry, psychology, sociology

Maybe I just Drink to Get Drunk

Maybe I just drink, drink, drink til I’m drunk,

Then I have no emotions, I’ll say what she wants,

If I have a problem, I’ll just leave it undone,

because maybe I just want  to drink drink drink to have fun.

 

It started in a dark curtained hotel room, or maybe at the bar with a glass of wine,

She asked how I was, and I told her quite fine,

She reached and touch my shoulder, or was that me,

She bought me a shot, I thought it was sympathy.

 

We started talking politics, and she sounded like me,

Her voice told of struggles deep, that I couldn’t see,

I want to relate, yet my mind’s in a bind,

I can only think of gripping her behind?

 

Maybe I just drink, drink, drink til I’m drunk,

Then I have no emotions, I’ll do what I want,

If I have a problem, I’ll just leave it undone,

because maybe I just want  to drink drink drink to have fun.

 

We stepped outside the bar, or was it a van,

I got real excited, because she was holding my hand,

She took me to a doorway, and I just walked on through,

She sat me on the couch, or maybe she threw?

 

Doc I know I’m rambling, yet hears the sad truth,

I have know idea of what, she wanted to do,

In a haze lost, without a plan,

She started reaching for my clothes, I knocked away her hand.

 

Maybe I just drink, drink, drink til I’m drunk,

Then I have no emotions, I’ll do what she wants,

If I have a problem, I’ll just leave it undone,

because maybe I just want  to drink drink drink to have fun.

 

I’m supposed to be a man, I’ve hidden my feelings inside,

Yet here’s the honest truth doc, at night I still cry,

Anxiety has me raddled, a depression so deep it flows out my eyes,

If I tell my family, and they leave I will die.

 

So Maybe I just drink, drink, drink til I’m drunk,

Then I have no emotions, I’ll speak to no one,

If I have a problem, I’ll just leave it undone,

because maybe I just want  to drink, drink, drink just to run.

 

Arts, Life skills, poetry, politics

Social Ghost

Social slavery are one’s to be, one trapped in a social media mentality,

With Hopes to see the next viral calamity, and get high off of negative psychology.

Group think sociology blocks one’s decency, Just for personal credibility,

To give words from enemies, or love from virtual personalities.

Controversy from apparition’s posts, are social gangstas with word boasts,

Digitally cybernetic ammo hosts, with clout from other lesser known ghost.

Verbal chat warrior quotes, are  just cyber bullies looking to do the most,

And watch you sink mentaly, on a computer generated coast.

that delusionary ocean grave, is one’s own dungeon enchained made,

because we must fasten our minds slaved, in to this social media cave.

Can one be demoralize from a wraith, not hear in a physical space,

Just ask the child dead by digital cuts, arms bloody, neck tied from a virtual haze.

That suicidal teen on the outside of social means,

a bright minded gleam, extinguished by socially evocative keens.

These social slaves put the guns in their mouths, And the pills in their hands,

And smile to their peer pressure clan, not caring for the damage caused to their fellow man.

By man I mean child, killed by social media bile,

From once called friend, yet now heart darkened by differing social styles.

They are just long faded memories, who are we to listen to passed graves,

My social media is popping, I can get 5 likes for showing an addics dejected days.

One needs the recognition, and craves that attention high,

No matter if one is in preschool, or even a president online.