You, A Zombie made by Drugs,
Mental Disease your only trait,
Decay Increases, Vague,
You, of unfounded spite and bile that fills all cavities.
Young maggots creep into your drugged and destroyed soul,
The machinations of your enfeebled mind,
You seem from the same “Pool” as another,
Could you be true brothers?.
Insistence upon your pretentious will,
Yours and those others in a decreasing down-filled “world”
Attack on the innocents,
A coward, behind a hidden addiction.
Was it SNRI or many classes of Illegality?,
All or none of the above.
Becoming a Corpse could be your only hope,
Will you ever learn?,
Your absence of Oxygen feeds your primitive and atrophied grey cells,
The “weak” starving “artist”, the truest of all Piss Artists,
Will you ever be a Man?,
Just the hurt and betrayal of my closest,
Ian V. Seymour ©2012