Lucky Junkie Poem by Earnest Gatuma

I know of some guy in my hood,
In the streets he had an outlandish legacy,
When he was tripping hard everyone understood,
The drugs he did were no child's play,
He was prone to having a good mood,
He was sober occasionally,
Nobody knew his real name however,
But we knew he had a nosy auntie,
She always made the cops arrest this nigga,
Oblivion the junkie still lived in her abode,
Smoked a spliff in her bathroom lair,
Snorted heroin on her dinner table,
The auntie could not tolerate this behavior,
And she never thought confrontations were capable,
She then tried to astrocize him as a family member,
Incited the uncle to be more aware of the leech,
But the junkie was a lost soul seeking a saviour,
He was orphaned before he knew speech,
And expressing became an intrinsic dilemma,
So sunken in inferiority till he sought to self medicate,
He didn't care if it would damage the dopamine receptor,
But eventually the auntie did the unfortunate,
She gave him away to the DEA,
All it did was intensify the self hate,
When he got released after serving a nine year,
He came out in fury and relapsed to the state,
Now nobody dares cross this old geezer.