Posts tagged Contest

by R. Alton

Question by : DO YOU THINK MY POEM IS GOOD? I WANT TO ENTER IT INTO A CONTEST?
Brandy

I lost my lucky shirt today.
It didn’t mean much until I lost my car keys and my clutch
Stuck…
I lost my love. Loosing simple things means reminding me of losing you….

This is a story of boy meets girl, And loves her until she left the world.
Once upon a time there lived a girl named Brandy and a boy named Dee. Brandy was a conservative painter child. And Dee was the skater poet who made her smile. Everything was gold they lived off needles and sunshine. And Dee the handsome crook whipped the needles for her to get hi. Dee made her wet between her thies…and she liked it. Brandy made him feel good inside. And he liked it, but now.

Love is outdated, sex is overrated
Trust is debated, and a junkie’s heartache is elated
But I will rephrase it. Love is that feeling we keep chasing
Whether it’s getting hi or in the worlds placement, but we never find it. Because sin has misplaced it
Brandy is putting the lighter under the spoon while she licks her heartache woons
And Dee, well Dee is useless.
She is getting ready in the mirror for Dee to take her out on a Saturday night
Singing nursery rhymes and applying make up for her addition to hide
I write. I wonder what she would do if i jumped out the window and died. Like I already am inside
She might cry, Mrs. Junkie loves me, Sometimes.

As she is lying on the bed intoxicated unaware of her surroundings, she is looking up at me and smiling and pouting, she loves me…Sometimes.
Usually only when heroin takes her for a ride, and at my funeral she will most likely say the ullage
But again she usually, only loves me when I am goofy
Or when I feed her addiction or when she’s shopping for jewelry

The monkey on her back is a part of my heart; it’s in my heart like the monkey on her back
She is in rehab for drugs, and I am in rehab for love
She escapes usually, to come get a fix and escape rehab
So put the lighter under the spoon. Stick it in and lets both relapse. I hate when she begs and scratch
She doesn’t have to I fiend for her to, or does she fiend for the needle in my pocket I carry? So i light the spoon for her, and she gives me her comfort
We are junkies, Junkies of love.

I lost my mind today, I lost control today
I could not resist her, but it was a dream
I visited her grave today; I am a man so I do not cry
But I can still feel the tears running inside
I miss her.
Brandy…

Best answer:

Answer by ♥вlυe cнιld♥
too story like

What do you think? Answer below!