Wednesday, March 20, 2013

The Fix (Addicted) - a poem written by Dominique Conston




"The Fix (Addicted)"


A baby is born, new life is created.
Created accidentally, yet for a purpose.
Usually a learning experience for the young ages.
Unprotected sex, leading to this new life.
How will this baby survive?
Too late to kill it, it's well alive.
The mother herself is barely holding on.
Minimum wage job, addicted to drugs.
Past due bills, almost out of a home.
The father was a dealer, basically a stranger.
He wanted his money, but she didn't have it.
So she undressed and said, "Here you can have it."
So he took it, grabbed it, jabbed it...
All while she was full of her habit.
A year later, that baby is still fatherless.
The mother wants better.
But the drugs say otherwise...
The baby is hungry, she's high, as the baby cries.
No diapers, few clothes.
A few hits, and she's off into the skies.
Hidden in darkness, she remains disguised.
But inside there's a great woman.
Years ago, she was beyond stunning,
Beautiful she was, had every guy wanting.
Until that day...
She went broke and needed a fix.
So she went and got it, it helped her temporary pain.
Five minute fix, now a frequent addict.
She never thought this would happen.
The baby is barely making it,
Any handouts, she's taking it.
Until those people came, and said they're taking it.
So they took the poor baby.
One look at her and all they could say was "poor lady".
A week passed, she hasn't come out of the house.
Notes of eviction, she floats in her addiction.
Yet, it's more than addiction.
She's not herself, she needs help.
Missing her baby, the inner her is coming out.
A wise man showed up.
Nurtured her, fed her,
Sent her to rehab, for a real fix.
It only took six.
Six months, no longer an addict.
Working on a recovery, realizing a new discovery.
A year passed, she's still clean.
Working hard everyday, but she's missing one thing
She wanted her son back.
Without him, the sun's black.
She went to visit him, he is two now.
One look and all she could do was cry.
Tears of joy, as he plays with the toy.
Was she worthy of him?
She never got him back....


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