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| Scottish Charity no. SC030626 Company no. SC212660 |
 A Wee Poem for Wee Maxie  No words of mine can quantify the scope of rippled woe, That manifests in loved ones lives where deep addictions grow. A parent, child or sibling, a partner or close friend, Must witness horrors inhumane that seem to have no end. To suffer seeing dimmed dead eyes, once laughter filled and bright. Now sunken, heartless, aimless, holes devoid of love or fight. Mal-nourished heaps of skin and bone that twice belie their years, These victims, of both greed and need, fill up the loved ones fears. It's hard to comprehend the deep despair that rules their days, Their will to live is long outweighed they want the drugs always. Their right to life is burdened by an ignorant moral stance, That's biased to the gods of greed, these people have no chance. The time has come, though time is short, for us to re-address The balance in this blight on life, this apathetic mess. No longer profit business or reward the dealers' crime. We now must act to make impact; we're running out of time. I wonder if the power merchants lie in bed at night. And contemplate the theft and death of human basic right, "We'll help the poor", "protect the weak", their manifestoes state. Not where? or when? But here and now before it is too late It's evident the most important thing's the balance sheet, An over-spend on budget and the cowards will retreat. Ignore the problem just in case "it might just go away". "Don't kid yourself it just gets bigger, watch it day by day". How can they truly represent the poor, weak, common man? By substituting shit for shite "a truly wondrous plan"!! The chance has come to keep your word, to fight this evil trade. Attack the source, eradicate the place the poison's made. I only wish elected people could for a short time, Experience the suffering that's tortured by this crime. It casts a giant evil shadow and darkens deep despair, Of helpless families seeking hope and find there's nothing there. But sometimes in the darkest hours a beacon shines a light, An unexpected ally or an angel joins the fight. A caring, sharing, loving person with unselfish grace, Unlocks the shackles of despair and puts hope in their place. "Our beacon, yes, we have one, our light for whom we pray". "Her name is Maxie Richard a true saint all the way". No way can we express the joy to see "Wee Busby" here. You gave us back our sister we needed that this year. Owen M. Ferguson - March 2007 |