Poetry: Living in Paranoia

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For those who are used to receiving my typical posts, you will find something different in this poetry post. This is a poem that is a part of a Poetry collection that comes from a time of my searching.

Living in Paranoia

Footsteps to his left

moving shadows to his right

constant fears and tensions

and an eeriness late at night.

It’s the life of a dealer

everyone know his name

his choice in life is drugs

and he plays it as a game.

Sure, he knows  it’s illegal

but, “one rarely ever gets caught,

besides the money is too inviting
as he looks at what he’s bought”.

A new charged-up corvette

and a house up in the hills,

he deals in dope and toot

and sometimes into pills,

Oh, it’s gotten him so far

material-wise he’s rich,

but his heart is filled with greed

and his angel is now a witch.

He’s living in paranoia

he hears sirens in his head

he says the price is worth it

though he keeps a gun beside his bed.

He’s pushing freedom to the fullest

in dealing, he’s his only boss,

but with the slightest turn of bad luck

his empire will be lost.

Lawyer’s  fees to pay

and the possibility behind bars

where the only freedom there is

is dreaming to the stars.

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