Daniel Sneddon

Written age 13
Shawlands Academy, Glasgow

JUNKIE

The recession struck you harder than most

Your life had sunk to an unimaginable low

The ones you called friends have no time for you now

Without cash in your hands you are a joke, a clown

Will you help me out? Your family reluctantly agrees

But now you turn to a cure, to put your mind at peace

Your last true friends, the punters and the bottle

You say you're living it up, life at full throttle

Your Mother is ashamed to look you in the eye

As you lie sprawled in the gutter, tears spew from your eyes

With nothing to lose and nothing to gain

You seek something stronger, to help you ease the pain

First impressions all go well; still your pain is yet to die

You continue craving something stronger, but what you want is mine

Much to my delight, you grow tired of hash

Acid, ecstasy, speed and grass

An acquaintance claiming to be genuine

Offers you a bag of heroin

Quivering as he goes

Into your veins I soon go

So you thought I could replace the happiness that you lack

But now see if it is possible to get me off your back

Let me explain how this will be

You are now a slave to me

All is not as it appears, hallucinations, ringing ears

Veins collapsing, vomiting, diseases spread through peers

Hot shivers, cold sweats, your stomach wrapped in knots

Just one last final shot, that.ll keep you hot

Sell your watch, your clothes, even your mother.s golden charms

Just to feel my touch again, within your ghostly arms

I have your soul, I have your heart

You are mine forever, till death do us part.