Fearing his shiftiness made his mummy and  daddy weep you could see the fear there eyes. Knowing there son had pollution in his body. Which made him shout out in anger always wanting more money. Trying to creep in after dark all alone but they keep telling him this is not his home. Hidden away safely are their jewels and expensive things but nothing is to hard to find for this ****** king. Drowned out in a sorrow of sound with flashing blue lights lighting up a dreary grey sky. Now cuffed up on the floor covered in blood with needle marks, open wounds and sores. He still can't see he's  just a pawn in this drugs war. As the cell door shuts behind him. As he starts his sentence there's a secret regret and repentance on his face. Knowing he's going to have the runs like a cricket score feeling like he's been battered red raw. Even on morphine and codeine he still can't dream as he wakes up with the sweats to put on his oversized prison jeans. The only addicts that don't come back are the ones who always stay clean like the man called dean.