The Perfect Drug
Rhythms and beats hypnotize,
Stimulate my brain.
Electronic noise does mesmerize,
Does this prove I’m insane?
Words to me my paint and color,
Blank paper is my work of art.
The muse is my own prank caller,
Pearls of wisdom I do impart.
Music to me the perfect drug,
Lowering my inhibitions,
The perfect drink that I slug,
Like my numerous traditions.
Beats pound my frontal lobe,
Forcing me to once again write.
Forbidden thoughts at times I probe,
I wrote “Loved after Death” at night.
Techno trancecore stimulation,
The thoughts roll out of my head.
Another night of this creation,
From the thoughts that I said.
Bass bounces the muse around,
Shaking her, to move my soul.
Driven by the repetitive sound,
Until my paper becomes full.
More beats make my pen dance,
As I write another rhyme.
Caught in a poetic trance.
Writing words to hectic time.
Musical highs achieved once more,
This drug has made me its slave.
Writing as I have time and before,
Within this night time rave.
By JToddUnderhill
© 2008 JToddUnderhill
(All rights reserved)
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