For all those living in the shadow of addiction.


There’s a box on the shelf of my mind,

wrapped neatly in brown paper.

It’s addressed to me in the future,

marked clearly and easy to read.

Inside the box are some feelings,

just waiting for their time to arrive:






The gifts those addicts bestowed,

as they danced away their futures.

Hidden away in the darkest of corners,

I pretend that they’re not there.

But when death finally comes calling,

as we all know it will in the end.

Because they couldn’t be helped,

wouldn’t be helped.

That box will finally be opened,

my turn to suffer their pain.


Please share if you know anyone who might relate to this.

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