A bad trip

[jdguyb]

I take the pipe from my friend.
Not knowing The dangers ahead.
I let the smoke fill my lungs.

It starts.
I feel the high coming on.
And then I think of her.
A dark pit of love.
What's going on?

Why does this love hurt?
I'm getting scared.
Something's not right.
What's going on?

Now it really hurts,
Like the high has been reversed.
Why am I feeling this way?
Weed is supposed to give you unending bliss!
But I'm scared.
Too scared to move.
What's going on?

All I can do it let out a yelp.
Please help me!
But no soothing comes.
What's going on?

This is a bad trip,
one for the ages.
All I can do is wait,
wait for the high to end.
What's going on?

And when it does end I'll be ok.
Just wait it out.
Find some kind of strength,
but I'm paralyzed.
What's going on?

The high ends.
I promise myself I'll never smoke again.
But I never learned my lesson.
And the bad trips pressed on.

[rowens]

What is she doing in the dark pit of love? It's a dry high, a menacingly blank one stuck in cycles. Getting narrower and narrower as it comes down. It gets the process across. It makes sense why it hurts. But what would it all look like if you could paint it? What's happening between the lines, inside the lines? You can have bad ideas, bad feelings, a bad trip. But there is no trip, just a negative experience. It made you think too much. Most people are more interested in what your thoughts looked like.

[billy]

weed is not supposed to give you unending bliss it can chill you out but it can also give you whities...that sick feeling where all the blood drains from your head..it's a sight to see and one to experience. anyway back to the poem.
it reads like some story you'd tell a mate. you have too many wasted lines (no pun intended) between the 1st line and the last. i'm sorry but this is one of those non redeemable poem unless you start from scratch.
there's a mentor program starting on the site with a bit of luck. i'll put myself forward now to helping you sort this puppy out. (that's if i can and if you want me to) other tan that read all the pdf's at the bottom of my post and read lots of good poetry.
wich i could have been more helpful

I take the pipe from my friend.
Not knowing The dangers ahead.
I let the smoke fill my lungs.

It starts.
I feel the high coming on.
And then I think of her.
A dark pit of love.
What's going on?

Why does this love hurt?
I'm getting scared.
Something's not right.
What's going on?

Now it really hurts,
Like the high has been reversed.
Why am I feeling this way?
Weed is supposed to give you unending bliss!
But I'm scared.
Too scared to move.
What's going on?

All I can do it let out a yelp.
Please help me!
But no soothing comes.
What's going on?

This is a bad trip,
one for the ages.
All I can do is wait,
wait for the high to end.
What's going on?

And when it does end I'll be ok.
Just wait it out.
Find some kind of strength,
but I'm paralyzed.
What's going on?

The high ends.
I promise myself I'll never smoke again.
But I never learned my lesson.
And the bad trips pressed on.