THE END OF MY STORY

I was 5 months clean before I relapsed 
I was in my moms kitchen that day when I collapsed 
This time Narcan couldn’t save me
I died in my mother’s arms to end a life that she gave me
I thought I had it beat
I was finally getting back on my feet 
But my disease came back full throttle 
I was stealing again from my parents medicine bottle
I started shooting heroin again
I started hanging with my old sorrows and pain, again 
My will power weaken somehow 
I fell lost, felt alone and clearly beaten down somehow 
And you may have only seen a glimpse of my realities 
But now I’m just one of so many other casualties 
I thought I was going to succeed 
I truly tried to believe
But in the back of my mind I always knew that my life would end like this
An addict searching for my own happiness 
Casket closed and left is my memory now
And my family is still wondering how
After all I put them through 
After all that they tried to do
Still no weights have been lifted 
I was an addict who died addicted 
And my picture that now hangs above the mantle will explain 
Because if you look at my eyes you will see my pain
And now like most of my friends that went before me
This is the end of my story!