Son

by Noise Pollution

[This is an odd one; I may not have been 100% cogent at the time of writing this. There are some pretty severe rhythmic inconsistencies, but there are a few lines here that I really, really like, along with liking the overall sentiment, so I decided to post it anyway.]

Their son is on drugs,
their son is on drugs
and the world is over,
the world is ending
like it’s never ended before
as if it’s never ended before

Their son is on drugs
their son was in love
and that love is over
like it’s never been over before
as if it’s never been over before
His mother hid cheap booze in the bathroom
when he was too young to drink
and he didn’t drink, he didn’t drink,
but god, was he afraid
He swore he’d never do the same
but now

Their son is on drugs
Your son is on drugs
the world is going to end.
he saw his father once without his mother
he saw his mother once without his dad
he never saw them together again
short of through doorways
for a short second, the doorframe
would frame a picture of the two of them far apart
he never dreamed how far apart they could ever be

Their son is on drugs
their son is on drugs
their son is sad
their son doesnt want to die
he’s been afraid of it for a long time
but he’s fearless now
as he goes out, out, out.

His sister, he doesn’t understand
She missed a lot of this
this shit he had to wade through
carrying her on his back
And he can’t tell if she made it out alright
and he’s afraid of that, too.
His brother’s gone, at least for now,
and the other makes him weep
there’s too much going on with him
there’s too much hurt in his bones,
too much hurt in his soul.
And he’s scared that they all ended up that way
and he’s scared of a lot of things, but

Their son is on drugs
their son is still on drugs
their son is disenchanted
their son doesn’t like anything anymore
So I took off for a moment,
begging for the grasp of a needle,
far away from home
a place where I could learn to feel more and less alive,
at the same time
a dream I have had all my life

Their son is on drugs.
It means nothing to me.
I can remember all the times the unnamed man spat upon her
and we all ran away then
and the humiliation ended…
the waterboarding ended too
And my real father,
I remember good times, sure
But I remember when he taught me to fear god.

Some people still ask me
about the times when I was young,
but I don’t know if I got the chance
to be young.
I remember the time at school
my best friend had black eyes
because he refused to lie,
and they taught him to fear god.

And their Son is on drugs.

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