Forgotten, Unforgiven

 

Those Little White Things

Im in pain, you helped me
I want a buzz, you helped me
You brought your friends with you
And they helped me get through
But that was at first and now i dont want you

I think of you always and the rush you made me feel
It was more about that when the pain wasnt real
But now you’ve latched on and its just me and you
You make me feel normal and keep me happy too
But thats not enough when i think of what you’ve put me through

Iv tried to go without you and i felt like i was dying
I didnt realise it was you and how hard you were trying
And now your inside me and youve latched on so tightly
I have to visit you early, daily and nightly
Why to you hurt me? And push me? And fight me?

I know i should leave you but im scared of what you might do
I left you for a day and i barely pulled through
The crying and screaming and psychosamatic sickness
I never thought you were capable of doing this
Why do you do this? WHY DO YOU DO THIS?

I know il be free from you some day soon
But for now il still visit you up in my room
Your ruining my life and you dont give a damn
Your name is Tramadol 100 milligram

Dean Ingham

I went on a site called poemhunter to see what was there. I saw this poem right away and was the first to view it. The poet was born on May 1st 1990. I am awestruck by the clarity of his statement, the rhythm of simplicity and wholeness that is at the heart of his message. I wonder what I would think if I saw him passing by, wanting to date my daughter (one of whom is his age), taught him – what would I be thinking? Would I ask him if he had any poetry to show me?

It’s something to think about. Isn’t it?

 

2 thoughts on “Forgotten, Unforgiven

  1. I remember the poem about your mother and wanted to see the picture that is on the card with the poem. I have it somewhere with all the poems you wrote long ago in a file. What a surprise to see the precious phot of us as babies. Proof that we have loved each other from earliest times. I so loved the poem about your visits to my home in the “city” comparing it to your home in the “country” Maybe post that sometime?
    Huge love to you and all. Deb

  2. I remember the poem about your mother and wanted to see the picture that is on the card with the poem. I have it somewhere with all the poems you wrote long ago in a file. What a surprise to see the precious phot of us as babies. Proof that we have loved each other from earliest times. I so loved the poem about your visits to my home in the “city” comparing it to your home in the “country” Maybe post that sometime?
    Huge love to you and all. Deb

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