We’ve heard so much about you,
Your story sung in a million ways.
The hardships the struggle all you endured just to get paid.
There was no other means of “getting it”
So you took yours best believe.
You made something out of nothing and turned mine into a fiend.
What came first the chicken or the egg?
One does not exist without the other
Neither slave master nor slave.
Many nights I watched mines slumped over bloody sticks and empty tubes.
What was once a weekend friend, quickly became a year-round routine.
Screaming and lying to their kin, all signs of the addict gene.
Oh how you beat the odds and yet mine fell right in line.
The good ones got off easy dead before their time, some escaped the grip ask their families, the damage has been done.
Mine I guess forever trapped their minds shrunk to raisins, dying in the sun.
You were once somebody! We say, anybody! come on, please.
“Can you spare some money or what? if not leave!”
“Hey don’t worry baby one day I’ll get better” damning life praying for death nothing is so much better.
Nothing is only nothing we tell them, all of this is passed you!
Caged I am my demons the warden there’s nothing I can do.
Mines not dead yet nor have they escaped the clutch.
Smart enough to be something but they missed the bus.
Daily slaves in their routine wishing for a better self.
Nowhere to turn grasping at their health,
guidance is a key sometimes never to be unlocked. Depression sets in as we sit back and
smoke some more of that….damn.