This was inspired by watching the damage caused by hard drugs. The rise of drug use in my area has stolen many young lives recently. Perhaps you also have witnessed this on your local news. Without insurance of their own or parents, kids are being lost. There are little to no recourses for these kids when they do cry for help. Everyone cannot afford Betty Ford or Malibu in U.S.A. Prison might be their only survival, but then, prisons are over-filled, full of nasty drugs as well.
Each morning’s painful breath you took,
your body screamed -
Sharp points and rusty spoons; you cook.
To rid the touch of crawling skin,
hot needle prick -
perhaps get sick.
Warm rush cements the deadly sin.
A long exhale - all worries drain;
Your precious scars walk deep in vein.
As pain subsides from tender soul,
the prophets cry -
to watch you fly.
The needle swept you in a hole.
First glimpse of sun ignites the crave,
as pain returns -
the stomach churns.
Ignoring death’s note etched on grave.
Collapsing veins of rivers gone,
in search for new -
within eye’s view.
Dead lines depict a lifestyle drawn.
Sad eyes with black holes blindly stray,
to be so lost -
at such a cost.
Their struggle sickens by the day.
The needle and the damage done,
Neil Young once wrote -
a famous quote:
“A junkie’s like a setting sun.”
_TheMsLvh © 2011
California Ink In Motion by TheMsLvh is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License