H is 4 Hypocrisy

h 3

Blood on the trails

lust within the rails.

Thirst for this…a familiar curse.

Oh, how we love a drug

How a drug loves thee.

No more fist shackled poverty.

Gone are classes minority.

Relish today, the children call.

They sing, needles and silver spoon for all.

Time to respect heroin’s dead.

A mother’s poorly made drunken bed.

h 4
Have no doubt..addiction is both nature and nurture! 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.