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Poetic T Mar 2015
The needle you loved,
The needle you cuddled
While we were in dirt upon the floor,
Voices raised in soliciting ways,
Another ten too go in your arm,
"Did you ever think of us"
Did you every see love through
Blurry,
Forgetful,
High,
On the liquid perferting your arm,
We were your blood
We were your lineage
But all you saw was annoyance,
Crying,
Fearful,
Scared
As the next on the revolving door
Smiled, and shoved us away as he left,
Another ten in the arm"
You were quiet, still, no longer
Moaning at are cries for food.
They arrived because of the smell
Because of cries heard through paper walls
Our mother
Loved the liquid
Our mother
Loved less,
All because she need the high more.
We were taken from the decay,
Needles caressing, seeping upon the floor,
And we were in warmth,
Cared for by strangers
More than our blood who loved the needle
More than she could, would ever care for us.
Not all mothers are caring

— The End —