The High That Brought Her Low

She said she would be right back, that she wouldn�t be long,
It's been 10 years and 5 days since my mother has been gone.
She's not dead; she's not missing, she never got beat
She's out on that sidewalk, living on the street.

I walk past her a lot, though she wouldn't even know
I look much more different then I did 10 years ago,
We see each other usually right around two,
Sometimes I want to stop and ask "what happened to you?"

During quiet times at home I like to sit and reflect
Is this a generational curse? If so am I next?
Nightmares arouse, then my pores bleed sweat
Waking to find I still sleep. This time am I awake yet?

Use to see bruises on her body, but they were soon covered with her lies
She use to shut the door in my face when I asked why she cries.
Tis I who entered the room when the needle penetrated her skin,
That was the day I was to never see her again.

And ten years later walking down the street who do I see?
But my mother in a blanket asking strangers for money.
Shocked by what i see before my very own eyes
Seeing her getting asked for help that she just denies.

Looking at this woman I start to reminisce
Its the times she was sober, to this day I still miss.
I feel love and hate for this woman all at the same time
Seeing that needle go into her veins at the back of my mind.

Looking at the needles sprawled all around her
Seeing this women has a heroin problem and won't seek a cure.