Sunday, 8 January 2017


Three roses making stew,
Two hands, mincing you.
Dark sky and faded blue,
a feeling, we once knew.

You'd burn me, cremate me,
then sniff up, all of my ashes.
When only you, held that key.
Laid locked in your eyelashes.

Every night, 3 am was like cocaine,
The Weeknd, hitting hard, my head,
like Cain on Abel's head, 'Go Cain!' 
3 am addicts up unscrewing the bed!

"3 Am Addicts"
Drew Poetry
~Andy Mwalasha.


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