Venomous Snake

His curly locks were blonde ,and his eyes

green the color of shining emeralds,

full of hope and precious futures,

yet stripped from graduation day

because first he had to make it safely

through bleached corridors and

the darkest hours of his high school years.

The drugs don’t work

 

She wanted to reach her sweet sixteen,

full of innocence and wanting, only to be

with her closest friends while cheering

for the high school team of handsome

princes so endearing to her dreams,

and standing tall on graduation day.

The drugs don’t work

 

The peer pressure of friendships badly

chosen led them to the dark side of

experimenting with elements of death,

yes death to their mind-body and souls.

 

You see drugs commenced to crawl,

like vipers slithering down the corridors

of higher learning,  spitting their

venomous poison into young lives,

while coiled under desks of teachers

teachings that.

The drugs don’t work

 

Teachers taught beware who goes

there, as seeds are grown sewn and

powders mixed and blended into

madness, while choking young lives

from these learned institutions,

plagued by gangs and pushers

who masquerade as students

concealing venomous snakes,

let loose down opium hallways

of America who cry.

The drugs don’t work

 

But leave our sons and daughters

reaching out for mercy, swallowed

up by hidden pride, they hide it from

us all their fears heaped upon their

souls by gangsters grip, who scourged

their classes, and put the knives to

throats and tell them not to squeal

or else.

The drugs don’t work

 

While slipping colored pills and buds

into their jeans, and schoolbag to

leave the stench of laws broken and

teachers preaching bad boy, bad girls.

now it’s time for expelling your dreams

for taking drugs and giving them to

others while the gangs keep feeding

and feasting in hooded darkened

shadows cast.

The drugs don’t work

 

So many young talented minds,

destroyed and left to die in school yards

and street corners, or holding cardboard

signs with burnt out minds, and lost hope

they crave the love of parents who tried

to save them from the venomous snakes

mighty squeeze, yet to no avail we lost

our kids we cry WHY.

The drugs don’t work

 

Such a crying shame of pity why a son,

or daughter is lost not listening and

pass the outer limits of control until

their hearts are seared liked a sizzling

steak on fired grills of burnt out lost

tomorrow’s and the hooded gang keep

feeding them ecstasy colored pills,

and tainted smoke, smeared with meth

to kill at random while parents weep,

and black roses are grown, thrown

and stomped on early graves.

The drugs don’t work

 

The children are gone

 

© Copyright Vincent Moore 2012. All Rights Reserved.

 


Comments

Venomous Snake — 7 Comments

  1. Hard piece my friend and so true. I know I talk about what I have gone through, and I hear a lot of at-a-boys for overcoming, but it’s a hard pill for me to swallow. You see, last year I lost my sister. I won’t get into details, but it was a direct result from drug use. Not everyone can be strong and overcome. It’s hard to feel good when I watched my little sister loose. All I can do is remember her, be an example for her boys, and keep on going. But like the old Steppin Wolf song say’s, “God damn the Pusher!”

    • First off let me say how sorry I am to hear of the passing of your sister, that had to be one of the toughest moments for you for sure. I know what loss feels like and for me its been painful. This poem was inspired by a school my youngest son at the time 15 yrs old was attending, it had those problems and a number of times I had confrontations with the hustlers, the teachers and the principle. My son got caught up in drugs there, it took me hard work, lots of struggles, tears and understanding to pull him through, I finally did and I’m very proud of him today. He is now 20 doing well at his career and thankful that his dad was there for him, his mother washed her hands of him and that tore me apart, but I was determined to pull him through and working together with a great counselor, him and myself, we made it. So that’s the reason for this poem my friend. Thank you for reading it and your comment, I appreciate every single one.

    • My condolences, Wayne. That is so sad! I agree with your wish for the pusher! I wish they would haul them all away, lock them up and throw away the key. They should put them on a deserted island, give them seeds and wish them well with their “crops”. Truly disgusting that we cannot put an end to them! You have ever right to rant and rave.

  2. I have watched that snake destroy the woman I loved, destroy her two daughters, and put me in a position of doing things to the pushers that I should not have to do. Thank you Vincent for this.

    • Sorry to hear of your loved ones being stricken with those killer addictions, as for the pushers, killing them which ever means would not be punishment enough, may their souls be eternally dammed in Hell.

    • Yes I wish we could as well, but as long as their are drugs available, their will be pushers and people who have need for addictions. It’s a sad, mad world we live in, isn’t it?

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