I have a collection of old poetry in a journal that will likely never see the light of day unless I post it somewhere online. This one holds a special place in my heart for a very old and dear friend, who, sadly, is mostly lost to drugs now. If even one person reads this and is touched, or reaches out to someone who needs help, then I’ve done my part.
All Is Well
by Tracy L. Carbone
Hey there, old friend,
Look at this End
You’ve come to.
“I’m clean,” you say,
Clean as Methadone screams
Through you,
Screams,
Till you wish you were dead.
Mumbling as you walk,
We all hear you talk,
Like a schizophrenic homeless man,
Jesus, how did this happen?
Long, dirty hair and soiled clothes,
Long since Coke went up that nose,
Or Crack inside your veins,
Or Heroin or Pot,
But too late now,
Look what you’ve got,
Swiss Cheese Mind.
Utter joy in our one room place,
Wrinkles on your face,
Free Methadone for all!
Abundant opiates!
Stand in Line!
Be on Time!
Or get so sick
You’re back on the street
Begging for money to get your fix,
Got to get it quick,
Quick, quick,
Don’t want to get sick.
Now you’re done.
Another day at the clinic and all is well,
Death knell…
But you’re legally clean
As Methadone screams
Through you
And you grow one day older.
All is well.
Tracy L Carbone's Bit of Everything Site 