If I could only reach the man who was my little boy.

If I could only talk to him instead of fighting the drugs that consume his body.

If his eyes were not just a glossy mirrored reflection.

Maybe, just maybe, I could reach deep inside and help before the evident death would come.

What happened in life to make you come to this, my dear little boy?

Was something missing?

Did I curse you from my own tainted past?

Oh, please little boy come back to me before it's too late.

Before they bury you in the ground where so many end up.

I love you, son.

DIANE H.