POEM: Another Mother's Child

Upon these streets, another mother cries,  

Her child dies, because they bought the lies.  

That hope and dreams are found within,  

The needle prick underneath their skin.

The blood, the tar, mixed with desperate rage,  

Left their mind cold, drowned in a foggy haze.  

Their heart palpitates to try and compensate,  

But the race was run in haste.

It stopped, no breath, no help, no one to resuscitate.  

The mother screams and holds her child,  

But the child is gone.  

She already misses their smile.

The preacher standing over an open grave  

Does his best to bless those within this place.  

But it’s too late, they died in vain,  

As another mother cries just streets away.

When they find their child with a needle in their vein,  

It starts again, this deadly cycle of pain.  

It never stops, no cease, no peace,  

As long as we are buying lies sold in these streets.

The fiends, the dealers, the cops, and more,  

It is a constant battle, locked in a war.  

But the victim is still left there dead, lying on the floor,  

The cold and lifeless body lay,  

Cold and drowned in a foggy haze.

When they come and take another mother’s child away,  

Another cries, too many goodbyes, all because they bought the lies.  

Now the question is, who will survive,  

After another mother’s child dies.