Saturday, December 11, 2010

Real Life Horror

Sometimes, life gives us an example of real life horror.  Several years ago there was a drug raid on a home in the town I live in.  There were drugs in the house, so there is no doubt that the police were in the right to be there.  What was brought into question over the weeks to follow was whether or not it was handled correctly.  You see, there were also children in the home.  The police say they didn't know, though there were toys on the porch.  When they came in, dogs attacked them and shots were fired.  They yelled for people to get down.  The young mother of the children didn't and when she peaked around the corner, while holding her child in her arms, she was shot.  Her baby lost a finger, she lost her life and innocent children were without a mother.

Of course a lot of blame was passed around.  The police should have come during the day, the cop that fired was wreckless...  The mother should have gotten down on the ground, she should have not had her children in the house, etc, etc. It was a bitter battle in court.

One saturday a man, Jesse Lowe, launched a campaine, when he stood alone on a corner, holding a sign that simply read, Drugs Bring Death.  His campaine has swept the nation.  Truely, that is where the blame lies, with the drug and the more awareness that is brought to light, the more we can help free those that suffer from the addiction.

I wrote the following poem and donated it to the campaine. 

copywrite 2010 Lisa McCourt Hollar 
No Reason For Living

My pain and my suffering
Brought you great joy,
My heart just a trinket,
A bauble, a toy.

Kicked in the side,
Disrespected, abused.
An object of ridicule
To keep you amused.

I gave you my love,
My life and my soul
You threw it right back,
Leaving a hole.

Misery loves company,
But I am alone,
Beaten and bruised,
From the pain you have sown.

Shattered and broken,
Stained and misused,
No longer your toy
No longer abused.

No reason for living,
No will to go on,
No hope for the future,
No longer your pawn.

Now as I lie here
In the grave you have dug,
Waiting to end,
My life as your rug,

I remember your names,
You have many I know.
Alcohol, nicotene
Crack, speed, and blow.

I’ve known you intimately,
We’ve had some good times,
But those were a ruse,
While you fed me your lines.

I now know the truth,
Though I learned it too late,
I can’t turn back time,
I’ve accepted my fate.

But others I’ll warn,
Not to follow my road,
It all ends the same,
No matter the load.

Whether it’s cocaine,
Ecstasy or meth,
It all ends the same,

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