A poem I wrote about addiction:
The "brick wall" and the "open road"
I've seen clearly but chose the brick wall, one too many times.
WhaT I think is solid and safe.
STILL I smash my fists trying to break through
Though just as it's secure and always there, it's rigidness stays the same and leaves no room for the change
Unless it is completely destroyed
Do I dare run to the open road unexpectantly?
Asking and wanting saviour?
Not to expect anything to come through except me.
[B]My Milage:[/B]
[B]My Quit Date: [/B] 2/1/2006
[B]Smoke-Free Days:[/B] 19
[B]Cigarettes Not Smoked:[/B] 98
[B]Amount Saved:[/B] $152
[B]Life Gained:[/B]
[B]Days:[/B] 1 [B]Hrs:[/B] 5 [B]Mins:[/B] 18 [B]Seconds:[/B] 10
