The Tale of the Opium Tears
Eyes that cry in anguish,
Uncertain and alone.
Seeking some solution
And searching for a home.
When we used to play as kids,
In contentment’s warm embrace,
Was the smile I saw each day
But a mask upon your face?
Haunting memories past,
Trapped in voracious pain.
A chance to fill an empty heart,
You push a needle in your vein.
You become the living dead,
But pain rises from its grave.
The tortured mind seeks freedom,
While the needle makes a slave.
Each night you come and go,
Looking worse for the wear.
Life hangs by finest thread,
To you it’s of no care.
Everyone gives up on you,
They say nothing can be done.
Your tears have gone from hate to pain,
To the tears of opium.
Why escape the chains that hold so tight?
Arms dependence is soothing bliss.
Once you have had just one taste,
You will crave the dragon’s kiss.
A lost orphan in a cruel world
Cast aside by your mother.
The needle becomes one with your flesh,
So death is now your lover.
As you dance with the shadow of death,
I wish I could stop the tragic harm;
To the little girl who played with me,
As she injects death into her arm.
I’m afraid one day you won’t return
From the misty eyed walk in the night.
With your needle as your boarding pass,
You go forth to take the Devil’s flight.
No more pain left to feel,
No more sights left to see;
Nothing but vague memories
Of my friend who played with me.
Copyright © Andrew Weeden | Year Posted 2014
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