The label
The needle it lies and tries to distain,
it cuts across the lines of twisted grain.
The needle it calls, it wants you near,
it tries to calm and tell you what to fear.
It's potion internally it's held air tight,
it will help you sleep on a storm filled night.
The needle is pin pointed to penetrate the vane,
it says its potion can calm your sped up brain.
I look down at you now laying there so still,
reading the label feeling the needles chill.
I'll be watching you throughout the night,
why can't I convince you this isn't right.
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Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 25th, 2025 05:07
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 7
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
A horrific image presented in how we look for the easy way out and find it is not the easy way. What we do to others when we take that path. A dark write that presents the consequences of artificial peace. Nicely written a fave
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