A Junkie’s Mother Goes Walking Into Darkness Poem by Sheena Blackhall

A Junkie’s Mother Goes Walking Into Darkness



He died to joy when the needle entered his vein
Ashes of truth, an ever ending war
She wants a funeral held for her son’s lost childhood
She wants the past to open, a swinging door

The teacher who heard him play the violin
The cousins who swam and played with him before
The golden times of laughter, strength and promise
Memories smashed like prayer beads dropped to the floor

Ever diminished by heroin’s poisoned kisses
His friends are vermin she’ll shrink from and abhor
Humanity peers out yet, from his sunken face
She shells out half her wages to help him score

Wit and music combined with abundant charm
When did it sicken and wither at his core?
A junkie’s mother goes walking into darkness
His dealer debts she works to pay out for

He died to joy when the needle entered his vein
Ashes of truth, an ever ending war
She wants a funeral held for her son’s lost childhood
She wants the past to open, a swinging door

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