Drugs Sold To Children On Dark, Unfrequented Street Corners
Dealers Turning Family And Friends Into Chronic Mourners
Young Lives Wonder If Their Next Home Will Be A Cell
What A Shame They Have To Ponder
They're On A Collision Course With Hell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Don't necessarily agree with this one. Dealers are not always the ones to blame... but rather the child itself, as well as the parents, the governments... if drugs seriously screw someones mind there was something wrong in the first place. Psychologically... emotionally... etc.