A tragedy
        nobody knew:
a situation
        always ignored.

Troubled and lonely,
        his family unknown;
a hideous habit
        began to unfold.

Injecting dope into his veins
        it was the only way he knew
to escape the pain.

So addicted, so abusive
        yellowish scabby skin
and sunken expressions
        this boy looked disgusting.

Strung out for days on end
       he hated his current trend.
Wanting to change - to him
       it seemed impossible.
Everyone around him shared this
        h e r o i n   h a b i t.

Knowing the ones he shouldn't be
                  a
                r   o
                u  n
                  d
it was hard for him to turn
                 d
                   o
                     w
                        n
the perfect mix for a quick fix.

         Desperate for help
  - with rehab not an option -
he was ready to quit with his
       own form of therapy.

Finding hope
      in a teacher ,
he began talking with her
      at every break.
Finding excuses
       to stay after class,
both needing help
       of different tasks.
The teacher had her
       suspicions
for all the marks
       on his skin but
never did she think
       it would be a habit
with heroin.

In need of recovery,
       the teacher helped him out
by simple ways of letting
       him talk things out.

Improvements began
       and he stopped using.
Missed several days
       sweating the toxins out
but all that mattered was
       he was kicking his
  h e r o i n   h a b i t.

Days progressed to weeks
      and he no longer
looked possessed.

It was a Tuesday
        during noon
that the teacher walked out
        only to see paramedics
rushing about pushing a
    s  t  r  e  t  c  h  e  r.

The demons were back.
    Injected too much -
     his life was now
       in the hands
     of someone else.

Bright lights shining
        and a new sun arising.
Granted another chance
        he’s now clean and sober.
But his heroin habit
        he carries around
in the form of a story.