Blog/post 004 At my behest please do your best to stay away from crystal meth. Young teenager always a stranger thinking there's nothing left.

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  At My Behest (a poem)

 

Please watch over me, dear Lordie. Please watch over me.
I've done some amazing things, dear Lordie, the evils ones won't let me be.
I've smoked a few tons of weed, Good Lord; I've smoked it when I please.
It's one of my favorite things you've made, Good Lord, except, of course, when you made me.
I used to feel so guilty, my Lord; I used to cry while on my knees.
They wanted me to die at a young age, dear Lord; they thought I would never see.

I've been so close to the end of the line, my Lord; I could reluctantly foresee my death.
Please listen to the words that I say, Good God; I'll be saying them until my dying breath.
I need you to help me, my God; I haven't been doing my best.
You told me to be patient, Good Lord; you know I need a good rest.
If I'm not careful, I'll waste it all, Good Lord. Please come to my behest.
I'll throw it all away for a day, my Lord.
I'll smoke that crystal meth until my death.

I'll smoke that crystal meth until my death, Good Lord.
I'll smoke that crystal meth until I'm dead.
I need you to get inside my head, Good Lord,
Tell me about all the years I have left.
You know I love you, Lordie. I pray silently every day to 'please keep on making me blessed.'

I'll smoke that crystal meth until my death, dear Lord.
For a while, you know I couldn't have cared less.
They did horrible things to me when I was young, Good Lord.
They never gave me a rest. I didn't have a clue about it, Good Lord. Who would ever suspect, the ones I loved & looked up to, were putting Ketamine my breakfast.
I wondered why I loved drugs so much, Lord; I tell you I would have never guessed.

But now things have gotten real serious, my Lord.
Please come at my behest.
I've seen the entrance to the underworld, my Lord; you already know the rest.
They've lied to me and defiled me, left parts of my body a mess.
They murdered my infant brother, sweet God. I was sleeping when he took his last breath.
The days after were silent, our house obnoxiously quiet. It was
The silence of murder, the silence after baby Samuel's death.

Please come to my behest, Good Lord; I don't have any friends left.
They've all been murdered or overdosed; well, that's the story I always get.
They've hidden my children from me, my God; every day, tears get my cheeks wet.
They don't even know I'm their father, my Lord; that's the impression I'm left with.
Please keep coming to my aid, my Lord; Please keep coming at my behest.
The writing is on the wall, my Lord; I'll smoke that crystal meth until I'm dead.

I would have smoked that crystal meth until dead, my Lord.
Thought I'd smoke crystal meth until my death.
You've shown me just what I asked you for, Lord, you already know the rest.
Now I pray in silence, my Good God; you know I never breathe a breath.
This way, I know it's only you listening to the few words that I have said. Every day I'm amazed to say, you bless me from start to end. When I go outside you send hawks and eagles who fly directly over my head.