Morphine Coma
Morphine’s death is coursing through my veins.
It's combating pain that's mine again.
The move, the breath, the twist, or the cough,
I can't pinpoint what has set it off.
The damaged nerves and lack of surgeon's skill,
That searing agony comes at will.
I lay writhing from the pain.
I'm awaiting morphine to reach my brain.
Morphine coma, come my friend.
I lay waiting for the pain to end.
Morphine coma comes to me.
It's deep and dark to set me free.
Whether the lift, the bend, the jerk, or the pull.
It sends the pain screaming into my skull.
I want the morphine just to dull.
Only for minutes my tearing skull.
Morphine coma brings its bliss,
To quiet the pain I'll never miss.
It brings its sweet ringing to my ears.
My morphine coma is coming here
.
It's my only relief and my only friend.
My morphine coma comes to help me bend.
I yield, I scream and again I fall.
But my morphine's there to help it all.
Addict or junkie call it what you will.
My only relief is a little blue pill.
Time heals all wounds I've heard men say.
But morphine is all I have today.
It starts at dawn and ends when I sleep.
I'm afraid I may be in too deep.
Yet until there becomes another way,
With my morphine coma I may die today.
An Original Poem by Jerry K. Warner
Favorites
Digg
Del.icio.us
Facebook
Furl
Magnolia
StumbleUpon
Google
Yahoo MyWeb
