Statistic


I don’t want to be another statistic,
Like this suicidal fiend,
She made the choice to kill herself,
Because this world can be so mean.
She begged and she pleaded,
She searched for an out,
Sadly never being able,
To escape her own self doubt.
From the family she'd derived,
She was broken from her birth,
Unloved, abused, neglected,
She never saw her worth.

I don’t want to be another statistic,
Like this drug addicted criminal,
He had no job or money,
Yet believed he was invincible.
He cheated and he stole,
He burglarized the town.
He got high with all the money,
Still, he always wore a frown.
He was on a spiral downwards,
He couldn’t catch a break.
He spent most his life in prison
His discontentment hard to shake.

I don’t want to be another statistic,
Like the girl strung in the street,
She’s there in the frigids of winter,
Through sweltering summer heat.
She needs an escape from reality
It becomes essential to get high.
She wants to cure her sadness,
As she struggles not to cry.
She says the drugs will cure her,
Help ease her suffering pain.
She’s tormented with agony,
Without them, goes insane.
Unsettled with her choices,
She had to get her fix.
She posted on the internet,
Sent strangers naked pics.
The following morning paper,
Explained a gruesome, bloody sight,
Found beaten, raped, and nude,
That girl was murdered last night.

I dont want to be another statistic,
Like this lost and lonely boy.
His entirety filled with misery,
A life incompetent of joy.
With pressure from his peers,
They attempted to persuade.
They said he would feel better,
His pain would quickly fade.
They convinced him to try,
Said it would cause him no harm.
He drifted in ecstasy
As poison coursed through his arm.
Through years of addiction,
The drugs brought only strife.
He lost his friends, he lost his job.
He lost his children and his wife.
he excecuted a plan,
He could take life no more.
Poison flowed through his vein,
As he dropped face to the floor.

I dont want to be another statistic.
Like the couple found in a car,
It was the baby in the back,
That made this story so bizarre.
The temperature set records,
On that scorching summer day.
The parents, they were addicts,
Their lives had gone astray.
Unable to continue driving,
They pulled over, in a jeep.
With the baby in the back
Both parents fell asleep.
As the temperature was rising,
They never heard him cry.
When questioned how it happened,
They confessed to being high.
That sweet innocent baby,
His soul now rests in heaven
His parents, they were sentenced
For a minimum of seven.
They chose drugs over life,
Never considered the price to pay.
They lost their baby boy.
And now must suffer everyday.

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