This week, Bryson had played us a song to a poem one of his friends wrote. As he strummed the guitar and sang from his heart, the tears swelled up in my eyes for such a sad experience as I listened to the words. We recently had a friend to pass away that spent the summer in our town and even spent a summer day here at our home for his birthday. He had come in with a group of young people for internship we offer at the church. He had been in Teen Challenge and seemed as though he had overcome the drug addiction that finally ended his life. As we reflect upon his life the enemy took, let us remember to always be a friend to those who struggle with addiction. Pray with them, for them and let them most of all know how much you love them and how they are valuable in life. I don’t want this to happen to anyone else. 😦
Here is a couple of poems that one of his friends wrote.
When the needle is what you choose, you’re choosing a life of pain – take it from me, sadness, disaster and sorrow are all that you have to gain. It will rob you of everything and destroy your every hope, it will grab you before you know it – the needle and the dope. The needle is the only master when you stick it in your arm, its grip will only get stronger and cause you great harm. Once you realize you have lost all control, it will be too late, the needle has claimed your mind and soul, you have chosen your own fate. The needle can not be handled so please do not cry, it will dig your grave for you before it’s your time to die. If you think that being a junkie is a pleasant way to live, think again. The needle doesn’t forgive.
…….WE WISH YOU WERE HERE
The last time we saw you, you were walking out our door, then we got the call saying, “…… isn’t with us anymore”. This addiction was his battle even his strife, he couldn’t leave it alone and ultimately it took his life. The needle has no pity, it has no remorse and it took our friend ….. when he chose that powder called “the white horse”. He left us early, way too soon just to lose himself in the enemy of the needle and the spoon. I guess he never thought of those of us he’d leave behind, what could have been so difficult that he’s want to get that numb, both in body and in mind. Of all our sadness and tear after tear, but it’s too late now, Oh …., how we wish you were here. How will we ever understand how someone so full of life had to die, sacrificing everything just to get high. I guess it was finally your turn to fly.