My Dreams Of A Different Mother….

dreaming1

My mother is a junkie, strung out on crystal meth.

I don’t know who my father is; my mom thinks it was Seth.

My brothers, John and Jack, I am raising on my own.

I am only nine years old but I am often home alone.

What I wouldn’t give for a mother not like mine;

one that doesn’t work the streets or smells like sour wine.

I know she’s out there somewhere and not just in my dreams.

She tucks me in at night and quiets my nightmare screams.

But for me, it’s gangs and crime and poverty in the hood.

I’ll probably die a horrible death, but I would change things if I could.

I don’t make the rules of law and those that do don’t care.

They punish me for trying to live, the cops are everywhere.

When I came into this world, I was born to a junkie whore.

And those that think I’m worthless, every one of them knows the score.

I will never get to grow up or make something of myself.

My dreams of a different mother, I’ve placed high upon a shelf.

So when I am on the news for getting shot for stealing bread,

you’ll just say that I’m a thug and you’ll be glad that I am dead.

Written by,

Shelby I. Courtland

©2015 Shelby I. Courtland

 

 

 

 

What Is Wrong IN My Life?

addictions

So many temptations to get me high,
Or could it be that I really want to die?

Sell me crystal meth, I’ve developed a need.
This shit is so good, even my demons recede.

When I drink it’s because I want to forget
all the horrible things I’ve come to regret.

And if I shoot up heroin,
don’t I know it’s a sin.

But it takes away the pain
Though, it’s all in vain.

These are the escapes that I do crave.
And yes to some, I give in; I cave.

What is wrong in my life?
Should I end it with a knife?

With so many voices in my head,
will they leave me when I’m dead?

When the pain of life gets too hard to bear,
the soul of man is filled with despair.

Note:I’ve tweaked this abit because those of us who love to write, for us, we can never get it ‘right’.

This one is about the ‘demons’ that many of us try to escape from. Life for many is just too damn horrible to contemplate, sober and in the U.S. alone, escapism by way of drugs has become an epidemic. Regardless of socioeconomic factors, it has crossed all barriers. It is not respective of income or education or even geographical location. People are using/needing drugs to escape from pain of the body, from the pain of the mind.

Written by,
Shelby I. Courtland
©2014 Shelby I. Courtland