Poem 8: Drugs

Drugs 
 

They keep rotting your sadness away, 

Until one day, 

You find out the cops have come, 

You s**t yourself, and say: "What have I done?" 

You had your fun, in your room of isolation, 

Away from the wonderful sun, 

Once made you happy, 

Once made you forget, 

What happened to your family, 

The sadness that you have kept. 

Now you find yourself in prison, 

In a white basic cell, 

Well, well, well, 

That was the bell, 

You learn from your mistakes, 

You become a better man, 

You forget and regret the drugs, 

Ignore the friends you knew, 

That were still being thugs, 

That were still trying drugs, 

Which you were tempted to try, 

But remembered the pain, the tears you would cry, 

And say that if you were kept in prison any longer, 

Of natural causes, I would die.