How they get you talking ill (pill for all ills)

The old
under the
pier to me:
you call
them drugs
I call
them snake oil
used to promise
you something
some sense
in your head
were you
if you get
a bad batch
for the rest
of your
and numb, mate
it is true
they never
ill of the dead
I am normally
not used
to talking about
the dead
no matter what
– People forget.
And if not
they have
a ‘problem’.
Loyalty straight
in the
and now
that is what the state,
my mother,
and my therapist said
is the healthy way
so yeah
snake oil
sold everywhere.
You know what
they said?
“the dose makes
the poison
I am not the
one to decide.”
Coffee, questions for god
and cigarettes
that is all
that is left for me.
A man
can’t even decide
how he dies
being called
a coward.




As you all know, Poetry is not the most contagious form of art on a self owned platform. So if you stumble across my poem, drop a follow and share it with your REALLY close friends, the ones you tell your secrets and talk about the human condition, I would appreciate it.     – J.D.D.

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