ESCAPE FROM THE FAIRY TALE

If you can remember back to the summer of 2005, when The Post offered
a 12-part series, Not My Kid: Crystal Meth in Your Community, which
tackled the subject of methamphetamines in order to educate the
community, you will no doubt remember Beth (Part 9: Seeing through
crystal clear mythology), and her story of an addict who had plenty
to tell us about the drug, the lifestyle and the manufacturing of crystal meth.

With her permission, I want to share this poem that Beth (not her
real name) wrote a couple of years ago. This poem could only have
been written by someone who has "been there" and I think it is very prolific.

The series can still be read on The Post's web page, at www.thepost.on.ca.

Escape From The Fairy Tale

I see your busy fingers and the sadness in your eyes.

I hear you say you're quitting, and stay right by your side.

But I know it's like the forest with flowers that never die

It's a Cinderella story, a fairy tale book lie,

Where the sun is always shining, just a little bit too bright.

Where mamas and their babies never have a fight.

Where meth is nonexistent and the smiles are for real,

And a magic man to fix you, so all your wounds will heal.

Where they tell their loving families that everything is fine

Where "tweaking's" not reality, and meth is not the shrine.

Where families are important and love is always there

And happiness, like a barbecue, wafts upon the air,

But when you spend your life in pain, weary and depressed

The crystal meth feels magical, you decided it was the best.

So you start to snort it up your nose and forget to pray,

You strive to stay on top and sweat it out another day.

Your children have been taken, too late to look at bugs

Too late for chocolate kisses and those sweet, breathtaking hugs,

Their sad eyes tell the story, of the toll it is now taking.

The price you paid - ADDICTION - in a prison of your own making.

Your wide-eyed life is stagnant, the crystal plays with you

When family calls, you'll explain you've got too much work to do.

The sores and aches aren't problems, they go away with meth,

The introduction graduates, you now shake hands with death.

You'll realize one lonely day, you've forgotten muse and song,

Your new friends will not love you for what's true, good and right,

But for the way the crystal makes you sparkle in the night.

You'll be laying in your bed one night, and won't know what to do,

And you'll realize - but not too late - the fairy tale's on you,

You'll think sadly in the darkness, of the price you had to pay.

And I think I'll hear you softly cry and whisper as you say,

"Oh I need to know the life, the love without the pain."

I can't get to the rainbow without being drenched by the rain.

I'm making my first step now, I'm reaching out my hand,

The fairy tale is over, and I'm hanging by a strand.