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Click hereThat's how it starts:
a depressive, over-disciplined intellectual,
usually
not even yet a man
You take the edge off
of your mind
(breaks from the world
and its petty grind)
You take too much
and you love the stuff:
your mind can take it;
your mind is tough
But if you go too far,
you've signed the papers
and put your fate in the stars.
Along with the wonderful creativity
comes the terrible proclivity
Edge after edge,
it files you down,
destroying your health
and tainting even your finest hours
Beneath the mask,
the drug monster
is a hell of an edge
He'll file down your health,
your morality,
and your sanity,
and then you hit the wall
of utter addiction
Your will is not your own
and the monster's seed is sewn;
he'll file you down
till you only wish
you were nothing
Take it one from who knows:
it all seems okay
till it grows.
It takes its time
and moves in slow,
till you see the monster
in the mirror,
and the hardest word
is "no"