When will you wake up and understand,
The devil has a grip around your throat while he shakes your hand,
Your body, mind and spirit is falling more and more flat,
Do you ever take a second, a minute, an hour to think about that?
No longer can this be considered a game,
If you continue I'll only have memories and a picture in a frame,
As you pump toxins through the blood in your veins,
Those of us who love you feel nothing but pain,
Do you think that you don't make us cry?
One thing we never want to do is to have to say goodbye.
© Poetic Anita Ashwini Shea 2015
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