Drugs Poem by Cleveland W. Gibson

Heed the jungle set in London where
man-animals thrive. Here lies sin, in
one enormous size. It's where junkies
seek solace in a place filled with
needles galore, which lie there like
forgotten playthings or the dead for
sure. But we see the trend everywhere,
not only in London City, we feel it in
our hearts, those strange drugs spell
out relentless death and sorrow. Why
might this be, those lives in a wretched
state? The answer lies, no surprise,
beyond the forgotten gate, to the
Church, to the Chapel on the hill,
where we all must journey to find, to
remind us once more of the love of
God for Mankind. A love so true,
extended through family to me and
you, it holds the key to salvation from
this drug laced Hell on Earth. We learn
God sees in us, not our sins but love
and worth.