Asylum Poem by Richard Betts

You told me of your demons,
And how they taunted you.
You fought to be strong,
But your weakness; it haunted you.

We talked about the fine line
That separates salvation and sin.
You wondered aloud,
Would Heaven let you in?

You searched for a sanctuary;
A shelter from harm.
Instead you found protection,
Pumping poison in your arm.

We gave you our love
And thought the fight was over.
The demons appeared dead;
You were happy and sober.

I remember the last time
I walked through your door.
I wondered why you
Were sprawled on the floor.

I yelled to you,
Something stupid and fun.
Then I saw your fingers
Clutching the end of the gun.

So if Heaven doesn't grant asylum
The way we know it should.
Come back and talk to me.
I know plenty of people who would.