Destruction of ones inner soul,
the death of ones sweetest dreams,
raped of all that was loved by him.
Shattered in a moment of desperation,
he looks to god, the god that his parents forced him to worship as a child.
In a fleeting moment he thinks maybe he has found salvation,
the he realizes, the church only wants his servitude.
Again he now feels lost, there’s no way to gain back that which he loves,
drugs seeming better than suicide.
It’s just a slower death, there is no victory to be found within
the cocaine he injects into his arm, maybe heroine will do it.
Thinking about his son, he shoots a point of down into his leg,
his arms simply can’t take it anymore.
Now he sits in on the floor of the bathroom in a McDonalds,
hurling, he gets higher and higher, just dry heaves now.
Trying to stand, he slips on his own bile, porcelain meets bone,
he lays there convulsing, maybe that last whack of “China White” was too much.
He comes to in the hospital, overdose victim,
lucky for him, or not, he isn’t hooked on the smack yet.
Signing out of the hospital lands him in jail, there was a flap in his pocket,
rig in his leg, blood all over the toilet.
Three hours go by, released on a promise to appear,
in thirty days he’ll be in court, if he manages to live that long.
Hailing a cab, it stops for him, to bad, it isn’t this hack’s day,
“Hastings and Pender” he says, the destination, not.
Halfway there, a knife goes against the driver’s throat,
he’s been robbed before, “Here, take it!”, he pleads.
Bailing out of the car, he runs, not looking right in front of a bus,
cash goes flying, dragged under the wheel, he has no worries now.
