Cocaine Thoughts.
Just a young boy only 7 years old, living in a house that's very cold,
he walks into the kitchen, looking for some food, he hopes that his
mom isin't in a bad mood. He looks into the cupboard, nothing there.
He looks into the fridge, bare. His stomach growls as he walks out of the kitchen,
and into his room, he hopes to fall asleep soon, cause sometimes he can't sleep,
the noise is to loud, it's like 300 people, one big crowd. Just as he drifts off
he hears a door slam, and a loud voice shout, "god dam,n" he hopes it's his mom,
that she brought something to eat, maybe she brought something sweet.
with his hopes up he peeks out the door,he sees his mom but no food in her hand.
He watches her sit down and take out a tube then pour this white stuff down on the table,
and make a perfect line, then she says "it's time". She takes the tube, sniffs up the whits stuff
and shouts "I can never get enough!" Than she starts to act real funny, like she's in another land,
like she's at a beach and she's playing in the sand. He smiles at the thought, wishing that was him.
He thought his life was so boring and dim. he needed something great,something that would make
him quit wondering when he last ate. He closed the door lightly, and climbed into his bed,
a million thoughts going through his head. Enough is enough he thought, i need that white stuff,
it made mom happy, made her smile. He needed something that would let him forget for a while.
He found out that it was cocaine, or coke,or crack he was sniffing it everyday back to back.
He loved it, it was his only escape. All he needed to do was form a white line, and boom!
he was on cloud nine. It wasn't cheap, but it was a habit he wanted to keep.
So he started robbing houses,stores, anything for just one more hit. Him and coke would never split.
To people around him, his life was a joke, 16 years old and heavy on coke. they told him
"Quit that stuff, your gonna die". In his mind it was all a lie, he lived to get high.
He diddn't relize it was killing him, but his addiction willed him on, his mind was to far gone.
So he sniffed up some more, and more, and more. All of a sudden he was lying on the floor.
his insides were shutting down. He tried to yell for help, but what came out was barley a yelp.
"This can't be it" he thought, I swear let me live and I will never take another hit.
A tear slid down his eye, this wasn't a good high. Then he closed his eyes and he was dead.
Cocaine thoughts running through his head.
Mq.
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