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Remember when getting high was climbing up the tree, and we could see the sky and feel as if I could let go and fly and never open my eyes having that feeling that I would never die. Getting high, on dads shoulders, seeing the trees and buzzing bees, the place for where I could see everything and be happy. Getting high meant flying on the swings, through the air, having the wind blow through our hair. Being high was pretending to fly like a plane, through a cold winters day with pouring rain on that saturday. Grandma use to pick us up and raise us high like The smoke rising from her sweet baked pies. Being high was to go snort cocaine everyday. It made me feel strong for no one could prove me wrong, I stayed on it so long that I didn’t know right from wrong. I was confused and started to be abused but always refused to just give up and loose. Ecstasy Made me high and I started to act so alive party and rave all the time, being so blind to all the hearts I pushed aside left to rot and die, But I didn't care because I was to stubborn to accept the truth that was right in front of my eyes. Speed made me high that I started feel pleasure and had no guilt inside even though I started to live A lie and always tried to deny the things I hid deep down inside. It made me commit crimes and runaway from all the times I made my mother cry, and I would cry because I no longer knew how to survive because I forgot the meaning to Try. Remember when getting high was climbing up the tree, and we could see the sky and feel as if I could let go and fly and never open my eyes having that feeling that I would never die? I finally climbed that tree and let go And felt the wind blow, I began to fly and feel so naturally high. But I woke up and realised that I am no longer alive, I overdosed and became so alive that i ended up committing suicide. They say when you die, you see your whole life flash before your eyes. All I saw was the way my mother cried cursing at all the times I lied, and watching my friends turn their backs when my only friend started to be crack. It became A sickness for it was my addiction, thee only way to rid of it was to die and leave all my sadness behind. But I am happy now that I am in heaven finally belong side, my family and friends that I pushed aside all those times whilst I listened to the demon inside my heart and my mind, Because Drugs Make Me Happy. - Wiko Te Maru
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