The Add In Addiction


With precision we have destroyed
Particles of ourselves impossible to recover
With fate and lives we toyed
And our bodies, souls smothered
Families, relationships distraught
Was something experience should have taught
Yet with logic we always belie
That on our own breakage we can try
Only with help can we reclaim
That sense of calmness which we can bask
And that suasion may come with many names
We need only ever ask

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Quinton McMorries

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I'm merely a wanderer, seeking to set roots and call somewhere home, It's rather tiresome to be at the whims of the wind. So, for now at least, DC is home-base for me. Always hoped to one day be a published writer/poet, but I fear this art is a dying one. If I must be one of the last standard-bearers of it, then I would call myself lucky.
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