The Neanderthal feeling takes hold,
The inevitable hug of ubiquitous cold,
Kaleidoscopic patterns of purple and grey,
Emerge against the background,
Of burning bright golden sunlight,
Hands trembling like the taut leather,
Of the drum just hit hard,
Voices screaming in the head,
Creating a cacophony of clamor,
Thousand and twenty needles,
Pricking and piercing the skin,
And twenty more thousand,
Ant legs crawling up and down,
But you have got to try,
Close your eyes shut and,
Listen to the ocean and the flute,
Clench your fists if you may,
But do not give in, do not surrender,
This is your chance,
To be set free.
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This poem is a short story about a drug addicts struggle to quit the addiction.
