Have you ever looked down that dark alley way?
The residents that hide their secret powers to escape each day?
The drug that is running through their vein,
The only part of life that is comfort for keeping them sane,
Nothing else to get up for, no bed to sleep in at night,
Life didn't begin this way, and it's been so much of a fight,
That the people who call the cops and scream out 'JUNKIE, DIE'
Misunderstood and demonised by society. Good people deep down, but a need to get high.
Not knowing how to break a cycle that has become their lifeline, their way and their need
From a joint, to a line, bottles of beer and to the crack pipe, it all seems like an addicts greed
But desperate for escape, or something more to breathe, comes the needle that enters the vain
And to the devil , their soul has been sold and nothing to lose, nor nothing to gain
Just the score of the usual, the habit that is their life. The addiction and toxicity. Being the drugs slave.
No way to escape the dreadful pain, except to get high, higher than before, aim for the moon and back like there's no more life to save.
People walk past the street of that town with judgment in their eyes.
They give looks, pitying the lifestyle, or sneering with sighs.
Sometimes a person that has gone up so high and their body relaxed, no breathing, no sound
As they have found the first high they had ever had, and chased it as it rushes over them, and their body just does not come back down.
An overdose in the lane is not really rare.
It's a common ordeal, but one that has little care.
Someones child, sibling, friend or parent has now become a statistic and lay dead alone in the alley way.
To be found, called an ambulance to the hospital, pronounced dead and ready to be identified to move away.
Out of the room, the hospital they laid, into the mortuary where their lifeless body is ready to burn into a grave.
A person like the rest of us, born like a baby that you see and think is cute.
This addict was once one of those, but something went wrong, and he fell down a tragic route.
Rejection and fear is how people show what they can not understand.
To love what seems so hard to realise, or to know that he too was once a living man.
The damage that had been done to the arms with track marks, to the hands, the groin and the toe.
He was just trying to cope with this life that turned out to be so low.
He once had dreams of flying a helicopter and travelling through Nepal.
He loved to explore as a kid, and was always smart in school, so proud and so tall.
But something happened in his life one day,
a story that like many others had him realise how he wasn't too okay
He wasn't abused like many addicts, nor removed by DOCs or unmedicated and ill.
He just had so much stress inside of him, and a constant void to fill.
His father died suddenly, leaving his mother in a constant state of distress.
His sister was brave on the outside, but inside she was always an emotional mess.
He felt so shocked, so alone and so wrecked by this turn of family events.
Nobody to open up to, nobody to understand the pain, and now not even both his parents.
He dropped out of year 12, he couldn't focus and study because of how low he felt.
His mother never even noticed, and he had a hard set of cards that had been dealt.
He first started pot, it didn't help much more than drinking, so he chased some speed and then crack.
Smoking in the pipe each day, hustling for money and not ever coming back.
Home was a distant memory, so were his family he couldn't face
For the fact his fathers death, and the life he had fallen into such disgrace
He soon found the most poisonous of them all and both a heavenly angel and a forever trap.
The one they call dear china white, black tar or brown and it's in powder form in a cap
Snort it, smoke it, or even better, into the vein that will ease the pain and escape from the guilt
No more facing the shame and paranoia that his life of smoking crack in the street had built
He had found peace, something so lovely and yet demonised by the crowd.
But rockstars chose it as their substance of choice, and would even say it out loud.
Heroin, oh heroin, you took him to the sun, the stars, the moon, the milky way
You took him to a planet far from here, and the warmth made him feel so much more than okay.
To the moon and back, the galaxy far away,
stars above him shine so bright, and the night time is here to sleep
But one night the tragic ending, the story that made his family break down and weep
It had been over 2 years and he'd not come home, not been found or called to let them know
and now they go to the ER and see his body lifeless and a face blue, the disbelief and shock wouldn't go
The son, the brother, the one that left his sister and mother
He had felt so lost inside and ashamed to his fathers death and name
He had stigma against him, and his self esteem was lower than the come down from speed
That he never could make the call, or go home, when his first priority was the drugs he would need
He loved his family dearly and never got to go back and say what he would have said if he felt okay
That he was sorry, he felt weak and wanted to rewind time to the first day,
To not touch a single thing, to brave the pain and learn to open up and not keep it all repressed
Because now he was just gone, and soon a funeral, and his family became more depressed
They were always ready to forgive and support and unfortunately he never came home to try
But one thing is, one sad factor is that, someone you know could be the one that is unlucky to die
Like them, miss them, love them and feel anger. But the fact is the death of an addict is one that we still seem to hide in shame.
It's a disease, unlucky event and not one that deserves to be given a label, insult or name.
That human life is felt and dearly missed,.
That was a son of a mother who for every night before bed had kissed.
Now he lays in an urn in the ground where he never lived a life he deserved to have known
And this is a common problem, and one we should address, not judge and never just leave them to die alone.
The residents that hide their secret powers to escape each day?
The drug that is running through their vein,
The only part of life that is comfort for keeping them sane,
Nothing else to get up for, no bed to sleep in at night,
Life didn't begin this way, and it's been so much of a fight,
That the people who call the cops and scream out 'JUNKIE, DIE'
Misunderstood and demonised by society. Good people deep down, but a need to get high.
Not knowing how to break a cycle that has become their lifeline, their way and their need
From a joint, to a line, bottles of beer and to the crack pipe, it all seems like an addicts greed
But desperate for escape, or something more to breathe, comes the needle that enters the vain
And to the devil , their soul has been sold and nothing to lose, nor nothing to gain
Just the score of the usual, the habit that is their life. The addiction and toxicity. Being the drugs slave.
No way to escape the dreadful pain, except to get high, higher than before, aim for the moon and back like there's no more life to save.
People walk past the street of that town with judgment in their eyes.
They give looks, pitying the lifestyle, or sneering with sighs.
Sometimes a person that has gone up so high and their body relaxed, no breathing, no sound
As they have found the first high they had ever had, and chased it as it rushes over them, and their body just does not come back down.
An overdose in the lane is not really rare.
It's a common ordeal, but one that has little care.
Someones child, sibling, friend or parent has now become a statistic and lay dead alone in the alley way.
To be found, called an ambulance to the hospital, pronounced dead and ready to be identified to move away.
Out of the room, the hospital they laid, into the mortuary where their lifeless body is ready to burn into a grave.
A person like the rest of us, born like a baby that you see and think is cute.
This addict was once one of those, but something went wrong, and he fell down a tragic route.
Rejection and fear is how people show what they can not understand.
To love what seems so hard to realise, or to know that he too was once a living man.
The damage that had been done to the arms with track marks, to the hands, the groin and the toe.
He was just trying to cope with this life that turned out to be so low.
He once had dreams of flying a helicopter and travelling through Nepal.
He loved to explore as a kid, and was always smart in school, so proud and so tall.
But something happened in his life one day,
a story that like many others had him realise how he wasn't too okay
He wasn't abused like many addicts, nor removed by DOCs or unmedicated and ill.
He just had so much stress inside of him, and a constant void to fill.
His father died suddenly, leaving his mother in a constant state of distress.
His sister was brave on the outside, but inside she was always an emotional mess.
He felt so shocked, so alone and so wrecked by this turn of family events.
Nobody to open up to, nobody to understand the pain, and now not even both his parents.
He dropped out of year 12, he couldn't focus and study because of how low he felt.
His mother never even noticed, and he had a hard set of cards that had been dealt.
He first started pot, it didn't help much more than drinking, so he chased some speed and then crack.
Smoking in the pipe each day, hustling for money and not ever coming back.
Home was a distant memory, so were his family he couldn't face
For the fact his fathers death, and the life he had fallen into such disgrace
He soon found the most poisonous of them all and both a heavenly angel and a forever trap.
The one they call dear china white, black tar or brown and it's in powder form in a cap
Snort it, smoke it, or even better, into the vein that will ease the pain and escape from the guilt
No more facing the shame and paranoia that his life of smoking crack in the street had built
He had found peace, something so lovely and yet demonised by the crowd.
But rockstars chose it as their substance of choice, and would even say it out loud.
Heroin, oh heroin, you took him to the sun, the stars, the moon, the milky way
You took him to a planet far from here, and the warmth made him feel so much more than okay.
To the moon and back, the galaxy far away,
stars above him shine so bright, and the night time is here to sleep
But one night the tragic ending, the story that made his family break down and weep
It had been over 2 years and he'd not come home, not been found or called to let them know
and now they go to the ER and see his body lifeless and a face blue, the disbelief and shock wouldn't go
The son, the brother, the one that left his sister and mother
He had felt so lost inside and ashamed to his fathers death and name
He had stigma against him, and his self esteem was lower than the come down from speed
That he never could make the call, or go home, when his first priority was the drugs he would need
He loved his family dearly and never got to go back and say what he would have said if he felt okay
That he was sorry, he felt weak and wanted to rewind time to the first day,
To not touch a single thing, to brave the pain and learn to open up and not keep it all repressed
Because now he was just gone, and soon a funeral, and his family became more depressed
They were always ready to forgive and support and unfortunately he never came home to try
But one thing is, one sad factor is that, someone you know could be the one that is unlucky to die
Like them, miss them, love them and feel anger. But the fact is the death of an addict is one that we still seem to hide in shame.
It's a disease, unlucky event and not one that deserves to be given a label, insult or name.
That human life is felt and dearly missed,.
That was a son of a mother who for every night before bed had kissed.
Now he lays in an urn in the ground where he never lived a life he deserved to have known
And this is a common problem, and one we should address, not judge and never just leave them to die alone.
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