Where I Live

Jeanne Sparks-Carreker
I dread surfacing up into conscious thought,
Each morning I wake up - trapped and caught.
The panic that fills me; the cue that it is time;
The crude, unwarranted, murderous rhyme;
The damn fiends and ogres who feed on my smiles -
Dining and stockpiling; energized by my trials.
Searching for a connect weak enough to walk across,
To find out that my equal just equals more great loss.
Their bags are soon empty, the voids will need filled,
There, screams crawl the walls, in the pit where I live.

-2007

Published by Jeanne Sparks-Carreker

Convicted felon, reformed drug trafficker, disenfranchised from society by the government. I spend most of my time creating ways to educate non-users about drug addiction, so that addicts are understood and...  View profile

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  • Greensparks8/11/2010

    Wow. Great stuff...you really get the pain and anguish across well. Bravo.

  • Pat Burroughs5/15/2010

    You are a very good poet. I'm glad you got straightened out before it was too late. My cousin's wife, 58 years old, died last week. She had been using and selling drugs for many years. My uncle had even turned in her and his son, and the law just laughed and looked the other way--no doubt being paid off by their supplier. Prayers and best wishes for your continued ability to stay clean.

  • Gary Davis3/16/2010

    Hello, I have the questions ready for you but for some reason cannot contact directly. Would you see if you can contact me?
    Thanks, Gary

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