Another Sad Junk Poem

I remember scoring the junk
At the time I thought
These are just harmless pills
Progression from simple Vicodin
To Norco to morprhine to oxy
To heroin, or anything hands
Could be laid upon
Home made opium was fun
Injecting, finding the veins
POP
Is not
Realization of complications
Felt from from withdrawals hit hard
Colored real world
Turns to grey bleak fake world
Ask yourself
How hard can this be?
Suicidal hard is the real answer
Don’t let any doctor tell you otherwise
Turn to the “miracle”
Suboxone; doctors and big pharmacies
Got you by the short hairs now
For life, ever indebted
Opioids/opiates have a
Love/hate relationship with many
Not just you average park-sleeping junker
But the nurses, doctors
Yeah about 1/3 of them
Students, low class, middle class, upper
It is everywhere
And unless you know
You don’t know
And it’s good to keep it that way