Getting High Poem by Debra Middaugh

On the road and your headed for disaster,
A liar, a creep, a thief you will master.

When you indulge in your drugs it calms the brain,
You panic when you realize your to blame.

It helps you deal with who you are,
Running from self you don't get far.

It steadies the nerves and calms the inner turmoil,
It's a ritual, a burning of the Mid-Night oil.

Your in deep you can't break the grip,
You see yourself going down like a sinking ship.

It kills all that is good and leaves you with no hope,
It's a vicious cycle when you choose the dope.

It starts with denial you claim your fine,
Where you stand now you don't have much time.

Jails, institutions, insanity and death,
A revolving door when you play with METH.

Constantly hustling and your on the hunt,
The life of a drug addict, Is this really what you want?

In your disease it's dark you have no sight,
After the dark comes the light.

When your sick and tired of being sick and tired,
Your dreams shattered and your hope has expired.

It's time to get off this ride, here is the reason why,
The price is your life when your out there getting HIGH.

TURBO1904 2021