|
For
me this is a work of fiction,
but for many others, it
is everyday life.
Drug abuse has no redeeming value.
All it does is destroy.
I dream
about a better day,
And wish my fears would pass,
And I could live in perfect peace,
And then look back and laugh.
Instead,
I live with doubt and pain,
And worry every day,
That I will never know the joy,
Of those who laugh and play.
I'll
never know what it is like,
To have a quiet life,
To have some friends who care for me,
Or have a loving wife.
For just
a few short years ago,
I started taking drugs,
To make up for the many times,
My folks refused my hugs.
I never
felt their love at home,
They didn't even try,
To show a little tenderness,
So now I'm getting high.
I find
it's getting hard to think,
My mind is in a fog,
I cannot walk, I'm falling down,
And lie here like a log.
I cannot
speak without a slur,
I cannot move about,
I've lost the faith I had in God,
And left with all these doubts.
Whatever
happened to the boy,
Who had so many dreams?
Now all I have is hopelessness,
And nightmares, so extreme.
I lay
here in this gutter, as
I watch my flame go dim,
And hum the tune, "Amazing Grace",
And wonder where it's been.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
|
