Death Call

Death tapped lightly
At her
Young
Innocent
Clean
Door
5 years new
Older sister knew
Young parrots will
Replay everything we say
And so the call was answered
Little baby blue
Smoking her first joint
Whilst learning her kindergarten lessons
But that wasn't enough
There was more light to snuff
10 year old
Gets brave
Gets bold
Decides heroine would
Give a better dance
Lighter under spoon trance
But even that got old and dirty
So by the time she's 30
Meth has lifted her to a new high
Her husband preparing for the
Goodbye
32
Eyes no longer innocent and blue
She danced with death at such a
Tender young age
Thought it would be ok
Older sister did too, by the way.

* Pray for the lost souls. I wish this poem was some figment of my imagination.  Unfortunately, it is not.  This poor soul never stood a chance & simply did not know better.  If older sis was doing it, it must be ok. Right?! So wrong, on so many levels.  We're all a little broken.  Some more than others. Her story forced me lend a kinder thought and a kinder perspective on her situation.  Tonight, my prayers go out to all broken spirits and lost souls.