I don't know what it's like to be addicted to meth but I'm witness to how it kills. It will come like a demon in the night. Ripping and tearing families apart. But it's not the addict's fault, right?
Of course not it never is because they're sick and they don't know what they're doing is wrong.
They don't care about anything but getting the next high.
They could care less about their family, if they do then why do they do the drugs in the first place
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem