He sold drugs on his doorstep
So many people came around
Some drove a distance to get to him
Some came right from our town.
Some came by foot or motorbike
The money was rolling in
You’d think the police would be watching
That they’d be on to him.
But years had passed… he did quite well
He drove a fancy car
He made friends with everyone around
They came from near and far.
We lived across the street from him
I often worried there’d be trouble
A drug deal that had gone awry
Could end up in a struggle.
Bullets flying, knives and chains
I often worried about the danger
But still, no one would call the cops
No one dared to be a complainer.
He was such a friendly, likable guy
Like Willie Wonka, he had had the candy
He distributed the pills they needed
Was always accessible and quite handy.
Downers, uppers, tranquilizers
Just to name a few
Muscle relaxants, opioids
He’d sell them all to you.
Then one day a mother came by
She was incensed and looked quite crazed
She took out her 357, fired it once
Leaving the dealer dazed.
Down he went on the porch
Just like her son who had OD’d
Justice had now… finally been served
She took him out so easily.
Image from Google Images: verywell.com