Forced to watch a growing statistic of eternal slumber

Years of pain and misfortune to become another number.

But this epidemic is one only shown on charts

Nobody sees the impact, or crowd of shattered hearts.

The battle was lost when the needle met your veins

Forfeiting control, it’s heroin who reind.

Freed from your demons, but your passing is numbing

Sober so long, we know now you were bluffing.

The day has come, the one we all feared

Sitting in a pew, fighting back tears.

All that we can do is pray God met you at his gate

Something so tragic we attribute to “fate.”

You struggled for a decade, now we hurt in your absence

You’ve gained your wings, now guide us with your everlasting presence.

It’s always angels who fall before they rise

Your time here is over, you were destined for the skies.

I know my readers are used to reading about dating and fashion, with a side of politics, but this past week I lost a loved one to a heroin overdose. Today at the burial the gentleman who composed the service urged us to encourage others to seek help— that he was burying more children than adults. If you are addicted to drugs, do not be ashamed to ask for help. Heroin does not care that you have a loving family, or how many people will attend your funeral. Heroin does not care that you don’t want to die.