His arms are richly drained to the piercingly binged bone

Of a seriously corroded being

These overlying eyes prioritised upon
One thing
just one thing only

Don’t suppose he can ever do so much
as tear himself away, display this inner need
To truly, quite lustfully breathe again

Settle himself prepare to ride this crumpled, sweat-ridden bed

‘Till able to see the forest for these metaphorical, root-interwined, twisted to delve trees

This addiction to outright heroin-based dereliction is killing three, not just He…

Been dry-faced crying, a shame to witness the shame turn itself inward

Albeit rather jovially in fact for a stand over family to see

Mother and father extraordinarily accustomed to which

The heaviest degree indeed

A son with one sole aim, soul aim about to wane downright

A fiercely problematic fright to have to stare at their downtrodden, pasty-face demeanoured individual

On a swansong undeniable juxtaposition

To When he was but a boy – red ribbon at hand, Christianity tagged, making his First Holy Communion

Untainted by everything and anything gone so flagrantly awry

Once upon a momentarily crucified time – the long lost memory set to last an absolute lifetime