Posted in Poetic Driblets

Chronicles Of A Stoner –

Standing at the door;

I was greeted with the aroma of cigarette smoke,

Mixed in with the scent of cheap liquor 

And the very distinctive stench of bodily fluids.

My heart was beating beyond a thousand beats a second, 

I couldn’t stop blinking and I felt my palms getting sweaty.

Inside everyone knew what went on.

I could feel the stares piercing through the back of my head,

Judging me and assuming things.

I thought I could just turn away and act like I was lost instead.

In my head I told myself go for it or go home.

I gently knocked on the door.

It was quickly opened, to my surprise by a rather impressively large and scruffy male.

I walked in

And I slowly followed behind him.

As I walked on,

Past the dimly lit rooms 

Where people did unspeakable things,

Where I think the devil’s soul happily singed.

My own fantasies I began to digest.

I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I turned around and was directed to the room by the corner.

I took a deep breath, 

Felt my pocket for my wallet 

And then I entered in.

Unbelievable to my eyes the things that happened and were seen.

It honestly felt like a dream, but since then to that place I haven’t been.

Though constant visions of it have stayed with me.

Tee

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Author:

Poet |Fiction Writer |Wannabe Comedian |Food lover |African |Zimbwabean

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