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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Wednesday, 21 January 2015

Crystalline beauties

God made women,
and women made me money...

Itching and scratching,
for the spark of crystals,
I imbibed on crystal,
spending more than I withdrew.

My life in debt,
I soldiered on like a cadet,
running and hiding from the feds
like a meth addict.

One day, I found solution...
It Knocked at my door,
seeking a fixing for her itching,
and BOOM, I got hooked.

"I'll do anything for some loose change" she said...

So I let her into my shack
and she unzipped to bare back...
I asked her what she wanted,
said she needed to slide on glass.

So I hooked her up
and she cracked.
She thanked me,
and told me she owed me.

So I told her to make me some money.

See I didn't snort, smoke,
or inject, I invested.
She sold her soul for me,
and I invested in zip lock bags-

Of crystalline beauties...

God made women,
and men can pay a price for women.

I got caught in this circle of addiction,
surrounded by women I pimped,
snorting and smoking ice, earning
me crystals from desperate moguls.

My slaughter house turned mad house,
my beauty started looking disgusting.
The men fought with my beauties,
as speed drove them fast into death...

I had built an empire selling sin,
I watched it dwindle and rot like a rose.
From beauty and sparkle as had been,
things went haywire when cops came to the scene.

I went from a shack into luck,
and from luck into shackles.
See, Beauty might glitter and sparkle,
ayeh, all that sparkles is expensive as f***!

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