My Guts Twist And Turn, Guilt Racks My Brain,
If Only, If Only, My Constant Refrain
The Baby I Once Held, My Son, So Proud,
He’s Gorgeous, So Clever, “A Doctor,” I Vowed.
What Happened, Why Him, Why Me, Not My Boy,
His Eyes Ever Pleading For Brown His New Toy.
Give Him Some Fist; Throw Him Out, Silly Fool.
“It’s The Last Mum, I Promise”, Empty Words, So Cruel.
I Love Him But Hate The Slave He’s Become.
Who Else Can He Turn To My Drug Ravaged Son?
It’s The Parents, The School; It’s The Time’s Some Say,
I Pray For A Miracle Day After Day.
Yet Another Detox, Will This Be The One,
I Can’t Stop The Searching; The Trust Is All Gone.
He Is The User, He Gets The High.
But Now I’m The Addict To Wondering Why,
I’m The One Sinking Fast Into Despair,
No Rehab For Me, Does Anyone Care?
Then I Look Into His Eyes, All Glazed And Remote,
He Is Still My Son, I Must Always Have Hope.
Anon