Poem By Ashley Mazur
You walk in and smell the wood.
You see the bright blue pool and giant lake behind it.
You walk through the sliding door and hear the boats.
My friends faces smiling
Days, Weeks, Months, Years.
We stopped hanging out.
Your grown, I am grown, we've grown.
We took separate paths.
You quit school and started drugs.
Years later I walk through your door.
The smell of marijuana and cigarette smoke smack me in the face.
As I turn my head my eye catches a white line of powder.
A warm tear runs down my face.
As you know my mother died from that drug.
We use to play volleyball, swim, and jetski.
Now your smoking marijuana, snorting coke, and smoking cigarettes.
The pain, betrayal, and most of all damage I feel.
They say people change.
That you did.
I pray every night that you go back to the little boys you once were.