A poem about poverty and heroin

I’ve always believed that poverty is the chain than keeps an addict bound. I’m sitting here, reading stats, and a poem literally fell out of my head onto my notebook…

Thought I’d share it….

unforgiven the junkie born

in a world of can’t afford a pen…

where the needle pierces

on its own…


there’s no money in the search

for the perfect numb…

poverty reigns and cooks

the junkie’s hope…


the last drop was sucked into

rivers where blood, once clean,

is no longer rich

with sanity’s peace



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