Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2010
When the junky goes clean
A sinner now saved
I reside in the belly of a whale
Where there is something called peace
There is also something called danger
I am like a junky gone clean I find
The other junkies,
They call me traitor
The clean folk,
They call me intruder
They will not accept me
They dont even try
But I blame no one but myself
I also question myself
Where is my home now?
Where do I go to find rest?
Is it with the junkies who love me but will destroy me
Or is it with the clean folk who judge me but will build me up
Where will be my home I ask the big black whale
Will he digest me?
Or will he spit me out at shore?
He does not answer......