Junk

I should be with playing with my sister, on our bikes in the park.
Racing around and playing games outside, coming home just on dark.
Instead I'm in some doss house, taking ice and smoking dope.
No wonder people look at me and think that there's no hope.

I should be home for dinner, happy conversations around the table.
It's the time of day that I miss, now it seems just like a fable.
Instead I'm on the street, hawking my body and doing tricks.
Just enough money for some drugs, so I can get my fix.

I should be doing homework or hanging out with all my friends.
It seems a distant memory now, I can't see that I can make amends.
Instead I'm in some dirty alley way just lying on the ground.
A crack pipe jammed between my lips, no dignity to be found.

I should be at Gran and Gran pa's house, for Christmas lunch with everyone.
Giving and receiving gifts, sharing fun and laughter after lunch is done.
Instead I'm racing in a stolen car, completely off my head.
It's a wonder that I'm alive at all, I really should be dead.

I don't even wonder what the future holds, I exist from day to day.
Doing crime and doing time, my master drug I need to pay.
I should be with a loving family, but that doesn't exist for me anymore.
I've worn them down too many times I could not but grace the door.

If you could walk into my house, see the family photos on the wall.
Then take a glimpse of me now, I'm not the same happy child at all.
Even mum, dad and the other kids are different people now.
The drug addicted, junkie child has changed them all somehow.

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Patricia Cresswell

Date: 9/26/2017 4:36:00 PM

A bleak hopeless view from the addict. The abyss between what was and one hopes to be seems to great to cross. This leaves me greatly saddened as I worked wit the addicted and no matter wha they wish to happen it mostly never does. Drugs and the need of them is so strong. Excellent write Craig.

Old Man Emu
Date: 9/28/2017 12:28:00 AM

That my friend is the reality, unable to help until they are willing

Poet Destroyer A

Date: 10/3/2016 2:46:00 PM

Wow, Craig... I wasn't expecting that kind of Junk... a tough thing to see....Linda

Poet Destroyer A
Date: 10/3/2016 2:59:00 PM

No worries Craig... I fully understand. All we can do is pray for those we love ...God Bless

Old Man Emu
Date: 10/3/2016 2:51:00 PM

sorry may have been a bit misleading

Manmath Dalei

Date: 9/25/2016 1:48:00 AM

Very nice start & brilliant end. Well penned.............// hugs

Old Man Emu
Date: 9/26/2016 3:28:00 PM

Hey, thanks for the visit and kind comments.

Anne-Lise Andresen

Date: 9/22/2016 1:14:00 PM

- This is great writing, you are describing the reality for many - terribly sad that you write : they only exist from day to day - I think we all know "this" person - I do not think they can help themselves, they need help ! - but they must want to get help .... they must want to be free from "hell" - A 7 - hugs // Anne-Lise :)

Old Man Emu
Date: 9/23/2016 4:06:00 PM

That's the key, must want help. Thanks for your visit Anne-Lise

Connie Marcum Wong

Date: 9/18/2016 11:04:00 AM

The only person who can help save an addict is themselves. My son pulled himself out and now has a wife and son. He tries to help others through his example. Your poem is raw and a wake-up call to others going down that road to nowhere. Excellent! Blessings Craig. ; )

Old Man Emu
Date: 9/18/2016 12:47:00 PM

Good on him Connie, great outcome for the family. Thanks for the visit.