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Drugs
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


 

                Drugs

Through drug abuse, a life can end

From God, forever lost

Even withdrawal, can oft offend

At friend and family’s cost

 

When drugs have taken firmly hold

When life’s no more one’s own

Many may find they’re in the cold

Living life’s trials alone

 

Drugs are the devil’s cunning tools

His victim’s daily bread

Even the wise become as fools

When craving turns the head

 

The face of Truth we need to seek

Alone, one cannot fight

But who truly with God would speak

He’ll greet with great delight

 

With no way out, that man can see

The Lord is always there

Where all it needs to set us free

Is wrapped within a prayer

 

Christ death is true, His rising real

He sees us when we fall

His Spirit comes our lives to heal

When on His name we call

 

Communion works, it truly does!

Prayer kills the devil’s lies

We need but Christ to get our buzz

No pills to fantasize

 

God’s Son, comes not to push and shove

He comes through man’s desire

Who’ll give their drugs to God above

To burn within the fire

 

It’s hard alone, to win the fight

This too is Satan’s plan

But they who seek Salvation’s Light

Will find who will and can!

 

Opium, Pot, Heroin, Glue

Ecstasy, crack and such

There’s nothing God cannot undo

No trial’s for Him too much

 

Addiction; is like mental rape

A simile not unreal

A cage from which there’s no escape

A need to lie and steal

 

Once hooked, how can it ever end?

Now blind so much deceived

In drugs, we think we’ve found a friend

By whom we won’t be grieved

 

To fantasize, to ease the pain

The devil’s come to “push”

One drinks, one smokes, fills lung and vein

To get the longed for “rush”

 

The extra edge one’s looking for

The crutch to feel secure

Dependent, craving more and more

Buy cannot find a cure

 

Life’s problem, just won’t go away

Through drifting puffs of smoke

One’s demon must be faced each day

With something more than “Coke”

 

If man his self; would abnegate

On Christ instead depend

Who’ll in God’s presence fast and wait

Will see their torment end…..


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Submitted: Thursday, November 22, 2012

Last Updated: Thursday, November 22, 2012

About the Poet
I never wrote a word of poetry in my life. Till the day Jesus took my hand and touched my soul.....I invite your response. However most poems are not about me! Very few are. But the feed-back good, bad or indifferent is always desired. Not meant to offend, but I write about many things in many a guise. Of life, death, lost, found, saved, backsliders, new comers, repenting souls, doubting hearts, heathens, Christians, fire, water, Satan's daughter, wallowing in sin, saved, made sound walking in Light, graceful righteous. Suffering, ecstatic, bored, excited, sad, delighted, Sick, well, lame, able, living, dying, etc. etc. etc. Writing about anything, everything and everyone as the spirit leads. All meant to reveal, waken, revive, encourage, shame, help. Gladden, pick up, exalt, portrait, liberate. Again over 99% of my work is not about me. Although at times I write as though I were or am. Speaking e.g. in the first person. This is quite common even in the bible itself. Prophets speak of themselves, then God speaks, again the prophet, then God......Quite often it's difficult to distinguish whom it is that at any given time is speaking or narrating.


Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


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