Excerpt from this article:
"Richard Nixon, in his effort to silence black people and antiwar activists, brought the War on Drugs into full force in 1973. He then signed Reorganization Plan No. 2, which established the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA). Over the course of five decades, this senseless war has waged on. At a cost of over $1 trillion — ruining and ending countless lives in the process — America’s drug war has created a drug problem that is worse now than ever before. This is no coincidence.
For years, those of us who’ve been paying attention have seen who profits from this inhumane war — the police state and cartels."
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Years ago I used to work in a public hospital, and from time to time I would be asked to work to work on the 'psych ward'. One of the residents had posted a copy of the poem Miss Heroin on the wall of the psychiatric ward I was working on. I liked it so much (the poem, not heroin!) that I memorized it.
If you struggle with addictions you can substitute heroin with your own particular issues. But it is still a great poem:
Miss Heroin
So now, little man, you've grown tired of grass
LSD, goofballs, cocaine and hash,
and someone, pretending to be a true friend,
said, "I'll introduce you to Miss Heroin."
Well honey, before you start fooling with me,
just let me inform you of how it will be.
For I will seduce you and make you my slave,
I've sent men much stronger than you to their graves.
You think you could never become a disgrace,
and end up addicted to Poppy seed waste.
So you'll start inhaling me one afternoon,
you'll take me into your arms very soon.
And once I've entered deep down in your veins,
The craving will nearly drive you insane.
You'll swindle your mother and just for a buck.
You'll turn into something vile and corrupt.
You'll mug and you'll steal for my narcotic charm,
and feel contentment when I'm in your arms.
The day, when you realize the monster you've grown,
you'll solemnly swear to leave me alone.
If you think you've got that mystical knack,
then sweetie, just try getting me off your back.
The vomit, the cramps, your gut tied in knots.
The jangling nerves screaming for one more shot.
The hot chills and cold sweats, withdrawal pains,
can only be saved by my little white grains.
There's no other way, and there's no need to look,
for deep down inside you know you are hooked.
You'll desperately run to the pushers and then,
you'll welcome me back to your arms once again.
And you will return just as I foretold!
I know that you'll give me your body and soul.
You'll give up your morals, your conscience, your heart.
And you will be mine until, "Death Do Us Part"
Author Anonymous
Recommended reading:
Why Christians Make Miserable Addicts
As Heroin And Cocaine Deaths Soar, Obama Wants To Let Non-Violent Drug Offenders Out Of Prison - cnsnews.com
Widow of Heroin Addicts Makes Her Point Quite Effectively With Final Family Photo - canadafreepress.com
