A short poem about the dangers of giving in to the demons of addiction and greed.
Copyright © Priya Florence Shah
☠️☠️☠️
He was born of tramps and criminals
Don Draper’s bastard son
The streets were his home
Chasing the dragon his goal
☠️☠️☠️
She saw a spark of light
That glinted deep within him
But it didn’t her take long to see
That he was just bad to the bone
☠️☠️☠️
He gave in to the demons
And lied his way through life
Silver-tongued and maggot-brained
As the cold, dead heart of Mammon
☠️☠️☠️
☠️☠️☠️
Then The Most High dropped the gavel
When he turned against an angel
Now the snakes run from their own venom
Their doom is written in stone
☠️☠️☠️
He roams the streets in despair
Having slowly lost his mind
Nothing to say and no more to give
He’ll always be bad to the bone
☠️☠️☠️
