The Life Of A Junkie Poem by John Masaitis

I finally opened up my eyes
The room is empty from all the lies.
No family, no friends it is only me
My needle, my fix, The Life Of A Junkie.

I thought the sixth overdose was my final breath
My life is hell, and I smile at death.
Now back on the beat, homeless a slob,
Forty-two years on the streets and still no job.

No money in my pockets, no not a dime
I'm jonesing now, the next fix is my crime.
The demon so strong he will never let go,
As I tighten the tourniquet to start the show.

This is my life the needle and spoon
I can taste it now like a sweet perfume.
My lover is crawling in every inch of my vein,
The rush so great, the scars would explain.
I have reached my euphoria where I bury my pain
Tomorrow I awake in hells cruel fire
The Life Of A Junkie is not much to desire.