Methadone Center Counselor

Here stand the lost souls
Of this world,
Addiction squashed
Unbearable reality for them,
In silent lines they stand
And wait their turn
To drink the brew which keeps
Their lives on even keel,
And then they come to him
To tell him of their woes,
Of their despair,
Their shattered dreams,
They talk of things
Which might have been,
Of beauty they had known and lost,
Of ravished lives and chances gone,
While with compassion
He attempts to mend
Their broken souls,
And lifts them back
Into that sphere of life
Where darkness ends
And the first rays of light
Play dreamily
Upon the strings of hope...

Alfred Charasz
Copyright 2006 Alfred Charasz