Morphine High

Morphine high - a painless apathy.
Not caring if the others came or went.
Chaos turned to cancer, the emotions all unspent.
A momentary lapse, and then the fall.
Tears streaming down her face as spirits called.
Meltdown to the highest of degrees.
Wanting just the feel of more morphine.

The quality of life lives in the heart.
Taken out of context, the pain starts.
Money-moving miracles of pride and expertise.
The powers that were never born to please.
Sought and conquered, lost or laid aside.
Existence will abide each great extreme.
Yet still, at night within our sleep, we dream.

Days of yore awaken in the soul.
Touching close, we feel a massive,
lonely, home-made hole.
There was a time it used to seem complete.
The dreams are sweet, but then
the rude awakenings begin.
They never really loved it, even then.

A mass of emotions, unasked for, unknown.
Lying deep inside the feel of home.
Core attributes of great complexity.
Controlling all, they never set them free.
The seasons twisted violently within.
Until explosions seemed to be
the only friends that they had left.

Morphine high - a painless apathy.
Not caring if the others came or went.
Chaos turned to cancer, the emotions all unspent.
A momentary lapse, and then the fall.
Tears streaming down her face as spirits called.
Meltdown to the highest of degrees.
Wanting just the feel of more morphine.
And this, the experts named her healing...

? Michaelette ?

10/12/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .