Not Your Friend
I sit beside you on your bed,
My hands gently caressing your damp head.
Eyes glazed staring into space, trapped in some horrendous place.
Crying out in child like burst, at times screaming which is worst.
Calmly whispering, I am here, your eyes open full of fear.
What’s the point, you sadly say, I can’t face another day.
Wide awake now body shaking, frail limbs and muscles aching,
Dark circled, sunken, lifeless eyes, evidence of your demise.
What will it take to make you see, how this is affecting me.
Look how much my heart is breaking,
Because of what you are taking.
All this sadly is of your own making.
Heroin is not your friend,
It’s not a means to an end; rather a means to the end.
It’s got you firmly in it’s grip,
Seducing you with thoughts of another trip,
Like some temptress, filthy bitch.
By not listening to what’s been said, you allow it to enter your head.
Foolishly going along , playing it’s game,
It has only one aim,
Which is always the same,
To render it’s victim: totally insane.