"Addict - A Poem of despair..."

The Addict
His man in years but the child still calls in the night.
Disciplined thin, pony-tailed, lives
inner city; spreads easy time over
ragged pavements that wind to a Lifeline,
second-hand shops, a café for leftovers;
networks for the odd outdoor job.

We Do Best What We Were Taught To Do... We Do Best What We learned To Do...WHEN WE LEARN BETTER WE DO BETTER

Mid afternoon the leashed need tightens,
leads him back to the chemist shop; kicks
time with the others, growing younger,
loose-queuing under the awnings;
the conversation impersonal.

Sinks with the sun to his room of quilted
shadows from cluttered possessions, bruised
furniture; reads, flicks television pictures,
sleeps half the morning on a grounded mattress.

Year after year lives how his thinking wants it;
no family interference, no responsibilities;
sits on his past, sidesteps commitment to a
different future.

Academic education fades unchallenged;
the demands of spelling, letter writing, avoided
where possible.

The liquid methadone daily blanket-wraps nerve
endings; and his conscience.

Copyright Caroline Glen

The Addict needs understanding and love firstly from themselves...

We Welcome Your Contributions and Feedback to Help and Support Others on Their Journey.

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Dream lofty dreams and as you dream so you shall become. Your vision is the promise of what you shall one day be; Your ideal is the prophecy of what you shall at last unveil. James Lane Allen.

THE EVOLUTION OF THE BUTTERFLY IS ALIKE TO OUR SPIRITUAL QUEST OVER MANY LIFE TIMES UNTIL ENLIGHTENMENT...
THE BUTTERFLY IS A LINK TO A PREVIEW...

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