Remember when we were kings,
long before heroin watered its malicious ego
with our tears,
when we stood tall against the shadows of our
demons,
long before our will and pride were conquered
by fear?
There was so much more to you than flesh and blood.
I have lost more than just a friend,
a son has lost a father,
a mother has lost her child,
the world lost a light that will never shine again.
You were stolen from us far too soon
to roam among the giants in a time out of
place.
From where you are, can you see my tears
stain this page,
can you hear my silent wish to take your
place?
I never got the chance to say I’m sorry
or mend the friendship I allowed to be
broken.
It’s finally setting in that you’re really gone
and there’s too much left unspoken.
It’s not enough to say I love and
miss you.
You were funny, kind, smart, giving,
we take for granted the ‘morrows we may
never have
and lose sight of the privilege of living.
Another life has become poison’s trophy,
though some day we’ll all know death’s sting.
Till my turn, you’re immortalized in my tears –
and in the memories of When We Were
Kings!
Rest in peace,
                my friend…

ABOUT THE WRITER. James Bonds seems to know all too well the devastation of addiction, as is reflected in his writing. He wrote in a letter that accompanied this submission, “If you know an addict, love them now – while you still have a chance.” Mr. Bonds can be contacted at:
James Bonds #19111-033 1-unit
Federal Correctional Complex USP-1
P.O. Box 1033
Coleman, FL 33521

Oh, how I wish fate would grant justice to the broken soul,
For then you’d be called to account for the mess you’ve made of me.

To lay bare the scars and wounds inflicted by your folly,
The fruits of your finest hour for all the world to see.

Hold you in chains till you answer for every lie,
Rob you of everyone and everything.

Let you share in the measure of my humiliation,
Till the whole world learns to hate your name!

So that I can finally free myself from this pathetic life,
And find a peace I’ve yet to know.

But instead, I followed you all the way to rock bottom,
Where only the lost and condemned should go.

A place where you promised me warmth and love,  
Where you swore we’d find comfort in each other.

Only all I found was a new kind of hell,
And embraced misery and despair as my lover.

There in those depths – longing for darkness and silence,
Where I sought to hide from my pain. 

I begged for my final breath to be swift,
I begged to be blessed with enough tears to wash away my shame.

Yet, as your spell over me is broken,
And I finally see the dwindling sunset of my time,

I wish the world had seen a better version of me,
Something more than words to leave behind.

Instead, there are broken homes, ruined lives left
To grieve and mourn over another senseless grave.

Because of you – so many are remembered for their worst,
Instead of how much of themselves they gave.

No logic or reasoning, no comfort found
In the poems etched into headstones.

Only a lonely mother’s tears flooding the ground
That holds savage bones.

ABOUT THE WRITER. This is the first submission by James Bonds. If anyone is familiar with addiction, this poem hits home. The timing is right on target, and I am very grateful that Mr. Bonds chose to share this with us. I hope this is the first of many. He can be contacted at:
James Bonds #19111-033 1-unit
Federal Correctional Complex USP-1
P.O. Box 1033
Coleman, FL 33521