The Needle's Lie. Poem by Charlene Lee

A line, a spark, a fleeting thrill,
The start of a climb, then the drop of the hill.
From a single taste to a heavy debt,
A life now framed by deep regret.

Addiction's path leads to the cell,
Where convictions ring like a mourning bell.
With restrictions tight and walls so high,
You watch the ghosts of yourself go by.

You contradict the truths you knew,
As the life you built fades out of view.
Evictions come, the doors all close,
A trail of loss that only you chose.

The dime is gone, the time is thin,
The needle waits to let the darkness in.
For in that haze, the lie feels true—
That the world is evil, and so are you.

Waiting now for the final breath,
Dancing on the edge of a quiet death.
A heavy heart in a broken frame,
Caught in the trap of a deadly game.