So now little man, you’ve grown tired of grass,
MDA, acid, cocaine and hash,
And someone pretending to be your friend
Said ‘I’ll introduce you to Miss Heroin.’
Well, before you start fooling with me,
Just let me inform you of how it
will be.
You’ll start by inhaling me one day
And then I’ll end up in your arms very soon.
For I will seduce you and make you my slave,
For I have sent much stronger men to their grave.
You will need lots of money as you have been foretold
Because I am far more expensive than gold.
For there is one thing you will deduct,
You’ll turn into something vile and corrupt.
You’ll mug and you’ll steel for my narcotic charms,
And feel content only when I'm in your arms.
Then when you realise
the monster you’ve grown,
You will solemnly promise to leave me alone.
The vomits, the cramps, your guts in a knot,
Your dangling veins screaming for just one more shot.
The hot chills, the cold sweats, the withdrawal pains
Can only be saved by my little white grains.
You will desperately run to your pusher, and then
You will welcome me back into your arms once again.
Then when you return, just as I have foretold,
I know you will relinquish your body and soul.
You will give me your conscience, your morals, your heart,
In sickness and health, till death do us part. . .
This young girl died four months after writing this poem. . . .of a
heroin overdose.
Copyright(C) 2007
- 2025. All rights reserved.