The Opium Den – a poem

***

​***

Secret opium gums lie like smooth anemones

On the dry beds of addicted stomachs light

With no food nor life drunk for hours too

Much too much, the blank repose of languish

Is stuporous in its heaviness, cinched.

*

The dreams of dire men die ignoble deaths

As they strive to regain what was once,

Achievements on the shoulders of others

Trodden down too far to rise again, so

What is left but determination to regain

 A loss…

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