kr1st3n

Micah's Poem 06/10/88 - 03/08/07
So, little man, you've grown tired of grass, LSD, goofballs, cocaine, and hash. And someone pretending to be a good friend say's, " Let me introduce you to Miss Heroin." Well, honey before you fool with me, let me inform you of how it will be. For I will seduce you, and make you a slave; I've sent men much stronger than you to the grave. You think you could never become a disgrace, end up an addict to poppy seed and waste, So you'll start inhaling me some afternoon, and take me in your arm very soon ! And once I enter, drip down in your veins, your craving will drive you nearly insane. You'll swindle your mother, and just for a buck. You'll turn into to something, vile, and corrupt. You'll mug and steal for my narcotic charm, you'll feel contenment when I'm in your arm. The day you'll realize the monster you've grown. You'll solemly promise to leave me alone. Well if you think you've got the mystical knack, then try getting me, Miss Heroin, off your back. You vomit, you cramp, you get tied in a knot. Your jangling nerves screaming for one more shot. The hot sweat, the cold chill, the withdrawing pain, can only be stopped by my little white grain. No other way ! There's no need to look; for deep down inside, you know you are hooked. You desperately run to your pusher, and then you welcome me back to your arm once again. And once you return, as I have fortold, you give me your body, and give up your soul. You give up your morals, your conscience, your heart. And you will be mine till death do us part.

Micah 18 years old
Died March 8 2007
Heroin Overdose