in Addiction Poems about Family
One pill, two pills, three pills, four.
The children are counting Xanax pills they pick off the floor.
Mommy's sister committed suicide in 2009; that's when this all started.
One pill, two pills, three pills, four.
The children are counting Xanax pills they pick off the floor.
Mommy's sister committed suicide in 2009; that's when this all started.
She's in the corner crying like a young girl so incredibly broken-hearted.
Her husband was a heroin addict; he left them a long time ago.
Now depression and anxiety are the only emotions the children show.
She did not start doing drugs for fun; it was only after her reality shattered,
But it all ends the same way; her reason for starting no longer mattered.
She went to her counseling sessions once a week.
She spent most of the session crying too hard to speak.
One pill, two pills, three pills, four.
The children tell the teachers they can't eat because they're poor.
Mommy makes a lot of money, but the money never makes it home.
She has zero friends but 6 drug dealers programmed into her phone.
She'll give them anything for a fix, even if it's her own body.
Parents set the example for the children; it's your life they will copy.
She thought it was just a temporary solution and she'd be able to quit,
But she didn't find a solution, just another problem added to the list.
She wanted to give her children the life she never had.
Instead, she emotionally abandoned them the same way as their dad.
One pill, two pills, three pills, four.
Child Protective Services is at the front door.
Mommy's pushing pill bottles under the couch as the bell continues to ring.
CPS's intentions were good, but in the end it was only more pain they would bring.
What's a child without their parents, a child in a foster home?
Proof of a broken society, children who are forced to go through this alone.
Electricity had been shut off for months; she frantically scrambles for matches to light a candle.
She went through this exact experience when she was a child; it was just too much for her to handle.
She yells toward the front door as she frantically brushes her hair.
Then the door opens and the children learn firsthand that life isn't fair.
One pill, two pills, three pills, four.
Mommy turned to heroin when the pills weren't enough anymore.
Children in foster care, ex-husband still has 4 years left in prison.
Getting her children back should have been her first and only mission,
But it wasn't, and drugs being her only way to cope only compounded the problem.
Once she had the ambition to reach the top; now her habit had her anchored at the bottom.
The children don't remember their dad and their sickly thin mom they can no longer recognize.
One stormy night she ran out of drugs and couldn't stop the tears streaming from her eyes.
Alone in a cold, empty room with no drugs to help her cope,
She took her own life like her sister, simply because they ran out of dope.
One pill, two pills, three pills, four.
Mommy loved her children but she loved her drugs more.
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Same here. The full poem was actually 4 pages long; a lot of the story was cut out to meet the size limit. The point where the children decided she chose the drugs over them was because of...
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