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!