By a mother whose son is addicted to Methamphetamines. Through more than 10 years of fighting to the effects of this drug, through theft and personal loss, vandalism, court and prison system, hospitals and doctors and do-gooders – through everything – I just want him back.
I look at my son and I see the beast.
He watches me through wide open innocent eyes and measures my reaction.
Who is looking back at me? Can I tell? Do I know which heart is wishing me well?
Today the battle is plain to see, as heart fights with heart for supremacy.
I want to shake him, tear him away – stone him, bleed him! In my heart I say,
let go of my son! He is not for you! He has a life to live, great things to do!
I want my boy back! You are not his king!
But in his eyes I see a different thing.
Evil uses these drugs to gain control and drown out the truth in this fragile soul.
Is he still there? Oh yes, I see – today it’s my boy who looks back at me.
Clear eyed and loving, with hurt in their depths, knowing the pain he has caused
us who love him.
What future does he see? Is there a life possibility
without this choking craving inside? Can he come home, or where can he hide
from the thing that ruins his body and twists his mind?
No, he must fight it with all of his strength. But what future is that?
Every day, every hour, just struggling to be
my gentle son, till he reaches eternity -
and finally sweet serenity?
Could I wage this war? Please God, let me never know.
My own battles are enough. I would help him, though
if only I could. I love him so.
What choice will he make? Does he have the strength to hold on to truth,
and deny the evil that stole his youth?
Just for today, he will draw his line.
He will fight for a future and savor his time with family and God who love him so.
But tomorrow he may not be as strong as today.
Tomorrow the beast will return and say,
“you are mine, you know. You are not strong enough. Struggle is useless – quit being so tough.
My way is easy, and oh, so much fun. You can take what you want, you can use that gun,
be the king of your world!”
But he lies, my Son.
You are not king, but slave when you walk those roads.
And you know it. And so the battle unfolds.
I will never stop loving this son, or hurting for him till this war is done.
But oh, how I wish for my little boy back. A chance to change this life-sucking track
he chose on a lazy boyhood day so many years ago, when my head was turned.
He tells me the fault is not mine, and that’s true.
But my heart says there must be something I can do, or should have done,
to protect my beautiful, promising son.
So two hearts bleed instead of one.
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