This one is a poem that was published way back in 2003 in a newspaper in the state of Alabama a local teenager, who wanted to tell others about the bad effects of meth on a person, his own life, his family, friends, money, profession, and death.

0

5% Discount Coupon: Unknown Tentsile

The poem in itself is more heart touching as it is a harsh reality of the society we all live in the excessive use of crystal meth with all the disturbing impacts it has on the lives of those close to that person.

If you have a soul, share it to show that you care enough.

The poem named- My Name Is “Meth”:

I wipe out homes, I rip families apart, take the kids, and that’s just the start.

I’m more expensive than diamonds, more valuable than gold,
the grief I get is a sight to behold.

If you need me, remember I’m effortlessly found,
I live all around you, in schools as well as in town.

I live with the wealthy; I exist with the poor,
I live down the road, and possibly next door.

I am made in a lab, but not as you think,
I can be made beneath the kitchen sink.
In your kid’s closet, and also in the woods,
if this frights you to death, well it surely should.

I have a lot of names, but there’s one you are familiar with best,
I’m sure all have heard of me, I am crystal meth.

Just try me one time and I might allow you go,
but try me again, and I’ll possess your soul.

When I hold you, you’ll embezzle and you will lie,
you do what you need to, just to acquire high.

The crimes you’ll do for my tranquilizing charms
will be worth enjoyment you will experience in your arms,
your lungs and the nose.

But you’ll not remember your morals and how you got raised,
I’ll be your ethic, I’ll educate you my ways.

You’ll give up all you have; your family, home,
your friends, money, after that you’ll be alone.

I take and take, by the time you have nothing to give,
when I’m over with you, you’ll be fortunate to live.

You’ll be sorry that you tried me, they constantly do,
but you came near me, not I near you.

I’ll be your teacher, you my slave,
I’ll leave with you, even to your grave.

I can carry more misery than words will be able to tell,
Come get my hand, let me guide you to hell.

Compassionately forward this reflective poem to share the lethal outcome of this drug which is slaughtering our loved ones…