[zaitsev]

Hello all, I don’t know where to start so I shall post a poem I wrote 17 years ago and issues are still ongoing. This poem only has a pinhead of experiences in my life. To this day still don’t touch drugs and never have, I feel my brain shutting down with all the stress. So here is my start and I hope it may help others as this type of life is horrific.

Brother Heroin

I once saw a powder I was told it was hash

My first bro to use it his nickname was Mash

Along came the foil and then my bro Moon

And before we all knew it they where both on the spoon.

During there doing they thought of themselves and whilst this happening I was just Twelve.

They gradually got worse day by day as I watched my two bro’s slowly drift away.

I lived with there habit for such a long time and all of there problems had now become mine.

Everyday I watched all of them jag and all they would speak about was their next bag.

I listened to them and what they were saying and all I could do was just keep praying.

In the morning’s I would wake up lying in tears “Mum give me a Tenner” that’s all I would hear.

For one more bag things would be sold and they would sell anything even their soul.

When they had their fix they would lay down and rest and all they would think is “This shit is the best”

I would sit, observe and watch all of them lying whilst wondering if they were sleeping or dying.

What could I do with this going on? but all that I done was put a brave face on.

I kept this face on for all of these years at the age of seventeen my problems were fears.

Then I asked God if he was real and if he were me then how would he feel?

Then one morning I woke up in bed and said to myself I would rather be dead.

Everything went from bad to worse as I found myself saying ” Gran hide your purse”

My two bro’s have died a number of times but it didn’t stop me from saving their lives.

If I had not been there to stick around I would have been planting my bro’s into the ground.

Now bro Moon is lying in jail whilst looking for hope I pray he wont fail.

You will wonder why I cared for such mugs but I realize deep down it’s not them it’s the drugs.

Dedicated to Scott and Stephen (RIP) Stephen 2009

[dfh]

I have no words. You sound a very strong individual. Much love to you xx

[zaitsev]

Hello there, Thank you and I appreciate your sentiment. I still try to have faith in humanity, years of hell destroys a person within, I was also almost murdered with a machete for protecting an attack on my brother and have been left with leg numbness, disfigurement and PTSD. I can’t escape this hell. I just hope at least one person can benefit from my poem I wrote when I was 19. I only want the best for people and never have felt more fragile in my life as I do now, I don’t know how long I can stay this strong it’s killing me. Thank you again

[Author]

Posts