Drugs and Them

Boring drug conversations, what next?
The bricks that I face, surround me.
Clamped down and had a chat, capitalism and their worker.
You expect to have some seisure, listening to flaps.
On and on like trash, cos they are.
Rich or poor it doesn’t matter, my time is wasted.
Only chords strung can make me deeper.

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Author: leeethomas

Visual Artist, musician and writer from Australia. Interested in Love and the Mind.

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