The other poem thread is 26 pages long and theres to many...so i decided to make a new one to see if we can get some new poets. Keep em comen guys..

Ill start it off with one i worte a couple months ago.

Down The Drain I Surround My Pain In Pounds Of Cocaine..
Its Strange..
Im On A Different Chapter But At The Same Page..
And My Name, Isn't Nothing More Than Bad Riddence..
Drugs At UnWritten Statistics..
But That Just Hits The Image..
If You Could Witness, My Life Under A Lime Light..
I Cant Find Right Worth The Time Sight, So I Live The High Life..
Sellin Drugs To Kids...
Drugs That Is..
Dont Got Enough To Live..
So Many Times I Think "I've Had Enuff Of This..


Smoked 8 Lines Of White Powder..
Smoked Myself Sour...
Lost All Power, As My System Shut Down During The Same Hour..
Breathe Hard In The ER..
Such A Stoner..
I Couldn't Save Myself, It Was All Up To A Donor..
Found The Organ, A Loner..
Barely Able To Funtion..
Never Make An Assumption Cuz They Made Somethin Outta Nothin..
Solid Conjuntions Eruption..
Turned Over A New Leaf..
Me?
Please.. The Leaves Breeched South Of The Tree..
I Admit, I Toned It Down A Bit, We'll Leave It At That..
Since I Seen All Its Wrath, Im Back..
I Tried But It Just Crossed In My Path..The Crack Kills, But Packs Thrills And Attracts Bills..
I Laugh Still..
Smoke So Mch Never Had A Chance To Sat Still..
When Will My Maturity Take Its Form And Show Up..
No Luck..
18 Years, Kids Got Jobs And I Aint Even Took The Next Step In Becomin 'Grown Up


A Freeze Frame, Drivin Down East Main When The Police Came..
A Dream Break, Never Thought You Could See Pain.
Over A Small Guard Rail, Into A Yard Sale..
3 Flips Then Stopped..
Cops, In Place..
Looked To My Friend, Didn't Know If He Was Breathing Or Not..
In Shock, I Crawled Out, Doin Whatever I Could To Get Him Released And Propped.
The Police Ceased Me..
And Before I Could See Him,
No Dreams..
We Got Past Them Then Abide And He Died..
I Cried For His Life, Just Wished I Wasn't High At The Time..
Tried To Get By, But Had 24 Years To Surround My Name..
Housed In Pain..
Couldn't Do This No More..
Took The Renouned Cocaine..
With A Look In Shame..
Opened The Bag And Poored Its Remains Down The Drain..

I haven't written a poem in years - and nothing of mine could quite match your free-flow eloquence. Very interesting, Nick! Gritty realism with rhyme!

I'll get back to you once I have composed something worth posting here.