SteveElektro
Bluelighter
This is a poem I wrote about the earlier years of my life. It is only the first two thirds, as the rest gets a bit too personal, and mentions names.
My old friends and I grew up in a hole,
no-hopers, destined to end up on the dole.
We lived for the present, no use for worry,
We lived for ourselves, no need to say sorry.
We wanted to be like 'the boys', they were older,
bigger and badder, tougher and bolder.
We'd follow them anywhere that they'd go,
we were young and stupid, we just didn't know.
We soon found out what they did with their time,
so we followed them into a life of crime.
We'd rob and steal to get some cash,
then straight to arcades, that's where we'd dash.
Then one day, my mate said "Look,
what do they do with the money they hook?"
We had to be them, we had to be thugs,
so we followed them straight to the world of drugs.
We were half the size, and half as wise,
but we had to be just like those guys.
So we drank ourselves stupid, we smoked ourselves dumb,
but we didn't give a fuck 'cause we were having fun.
Soon we were smoking everyday,
being hell smashed was the only way.
Through all this shit I'd found a new friend,
choof would always have a hand to lend.
After a while, the novelty went away,
pot became something that you did anyway.
It was about that time I was told by my mother,
"Please, just don't end up like your brother!"
But they were the boys, they knew the shit,
so that's where we looked for our next hit.
Prescription drugs, that's it, of course,
but the boys wouldn't chop us, so we found our own source.
Panadeine Forte, crushed on a bong,
after eating like 10, it didn't take long.
Sitting at home, in the medicine rack,
look for the cheap-ass forms of smack.
An avil, some benzo's, a codeine, a ro-ey,
a fuck-load of dexys, that shit's like go-ey.
Too lazy to smile, too happy to frown,
too stupid to see that we were going down.
My life was like this for a couple of years,
some pot every day, with some pills and some beers.
An ambulance here, a divvy van there,
as long as we were smashed, we just didn't care.
Every single day, being off my head,
it didn't fucking matter being alive or dead.
Being straight made me think about how much my life sucked,
so everyday was a quest to get really fucked.
Sooner or later, I had my first trip.
I realised how much the 'real' drugs rip.
Cruising through my area, off my face,
feeling detatched from the human race.
Not quite 14 years since the day of my birth,
trapped in the shit-hole that we call Perth.
Hadn't had an E, the shit was so dear,
but what's all this buzz about H that I hear?
"Fuck It!" I thought, "Let's go, all out!"
Whacked it four times before I had doubts.
Meanwhile, my bro built a habit for smack.
So I fucked it off, and I never looked back.
Most of my mates, their lives turned to shit.
only 14, chasing their next hit.
Why the fuck did we start so young?
Why the fuck were we so damn dumb?
Around this time, my mum had a plan,
to straighten me up, send me to my old man.
a 14 year old with a heart full of hate,
I packed up my shit and went interstate.
Caught the train over, what a fucking joke,
had half a pack of val's, and some scotch and coke.
Can't recall shit from the whole damn ride,
except 3 fuckin' days of being stuck inside.
So there I was, new school, new state,
I could start again from a new clean slate,
I met some dudes, they weren't down for stealing,
so I fucked the past off and began the healing.
No crime, no money, what a fucking pity,
but my new school was bonghead city.
Didn't take long before I started dealing,
easy fuckin' money, less risk than stealing.
The past was behind me, no-one knew the real me,
smoking pot everyday to cope was the key.
As long as I was smashed, as long as I was fucked,
I didn't have to think of how much my life sucked.
I'd think about my old mates every god damn day,
not knowing who's dead, or who's doing okay,
At least I didn't worry about mates over here,
as far as I knew, smack wasn't even near.
My old friends and I grew up in a hole,
no-hopers, destined to end up on the dole.
We lived for the present, no use for worry,
We lived for ourselves, no need to say sorry.
We wanted to be like 'the boys', they were older,
bigger and badder, tougher and bolder.
We'd follow them anywhere that they'd go,
we were young and stupid, we just didn't know.
We soon found out what they did with their time,
so we followed them into a life of crime.
We'd rob and steal to get some cash,
then straight to arcades, that's where we'd dash.
Then one day, my mate said "Look,
what do they do with the money they hook?"
We had to be them, we had to be thugs,
so we followed them straight to the world of drugs.
We were half the size, and half as wise,
but we had to be just like those guys.
So we drank ourselves stupid, we smoked ourselves dumb,
but we didn't give a fuck 'cause we were having fun.
Soon we were smoking everyday,
being hell smashed was the only way.
Through all this shit I'd found a new friend,
choof would always have a hand to lend.
After a while, the novelty went away,
pot became something that you did anyway.
It was about that time I was told by my mother,
"Please, just don't end up like your brother!"
But they were the boys, they knew the shit,
so that's where we looked for our next hit.
Prescription drugs, that's it, of course,
but the boys wouldn't chop us, so we found our own source.
Panadeine Forte, crushed on a bong,
after eating like 10, it didn't take long.
Sitting at home, in the medicine rack,
look for the cheap-ass forms of smack.
An avil, some benzo's, a codeine, a ro-ey,
a fuck-load of dexys, that shit's like go-ey.
Too lazy to smile, too happy to frown,
too stupid to see that we were going down.
My life was like this for a couple of years,
some pot every day, with some pills and some beers.
An ambulance here, a divvy van there,
as long as we were smashed, we just didn't care.
Every single day, being off my head,
it didn't fucking matter being alive or dead.
Being straight made me think about how much my life sucked,
so everyday was a quest to get really fucked.
Sooner or later, I had my first trip.
I realised how much the 'real' drugs rip.
Cruising through my area, off my face,
feeling detatched from the human race.
Not quite 14 years since the day of my birth,
trapped in the shit-hole that we call Perth.
Hadn't had an E, the shit was so dear,
but what's all this buzz about H that I hear?
"Fuck It!" I thought, "Let's go, all out!"
Whacked it four times before I had doubts.
Meanwhile, my bro built a habit for smack.
So I fucked it off, and I never looked back.
Most of my mates, their lives turned to shit.
only 14, chasing their next hit.
Why the fuck did we start so young?
Why the fuck were we so damn dumb?
Around this time, my mum had a plan,
to straighten me up, send me to my old man.
a 14 year old with a heart full of hate,
I packed up my shit and went interstate.
Caught the train over, what a fucking joke,
had half a pack of val's, and some scotch and coke.
Can't recall shit from the whole damn ride,
except 3 fuckin' days of being stuck inside.
So there I was, new school, new state,
I could start again from a new clean slate,
I met some dudes, they weren't down for stealing,
so I fucked the past off and began the healing.
No crime, no money, what a fucking pity,
but my new school was bonghead city.
Didn't take long before I started dealing,
easy fuckin' money, less risk than stealing.
The past was behind me, no-one knew the real me,
smoking pot everyday to cope was the key.
As long as I was smashed, as long as I was fucked,
I didn't have to think of how much my life sucked.
I'd think about my old mates every god damn day,
not knowing who's dead, or who's doing okay,
At least I didn't worry about mates over here,
as far as I knew, smack wasn't even near.
