Druggie

No pity sought, for choices made, 

In a bed of consequence, they are laid. 

They chose the path, the needle, the pill, 

Ignoring warnings, swallowing still. 

The view is harsh, the critics cold, 

Labeling many, young and old. 

Beneath the surface, a battle unseen, 

A struggle with shadows, silent and keen. 

"Scum," they whisper, "the weak, the low," 

Unseen, the wounds that continue to grow. 

The stance is firm, the judgment clear, 

"Face life head on, don't have no fear." 

Judgment passed, with heavy stones, 

Forgetting flesh, blood, and bones. 

Behind each face, behind each name, 

A story untold, a hidden flame.  

Scum and waste, looking for a high in life, 

Or humans struggling, in endless strife. 

For beneath the label, beneath the scorn, 

Are there hearts that beat, tattered and worn?