Words

The words that are polluting my page,
The over use of I, me and my,
The pointless aim of this drug fused addict,
A hopeless victim of another chemical reaction.

While Brian is becoming my fresh prince through the speakers of my stereo,
Dragon is throwing fire balls around.
So bare and pure,
So unconventional and fragmented.

I see a white light.
I lose myself.
I’m drowning.

A poem to cleanse my mind or a bunch of words with no sense?
A work of a genius or a stoned stroke of an aimless inked page?
Unclassified or in a class of its own?

The white light is calling,
And my pen is falling.