Please Press Play Above And Follow Along With The Poem Below.
A story stirs beneath the noise, a tale of silent cries,
Of love stretched thin by shadows cast behind familiar eyes.
A home once warm with gentle days now trembles in the night,
As something dark has taken hold and drained away the light.
A parent stands with aching heart, yet will not turn away,
Though every hope seems worn and bruised by what each brings to stay.
They search for cures, for answers lost in corridors of doubt,
But every door they knock upon just leads them back without.
The child they held, the dreams they knew, now drift in altered haze,
Caught in a storm that clouds the mind and twists the passing days.
Not all is as it once appeared in softer, simpler time,
For what was once a fleeting vice now grows to deeper crime.
Words turn sharp and actions wild, the house no longer safe,
Love is tested, stretched and torn, yet still it holds its place.
The nights grow long with fear and grief, the days with quiet dread,
As hope and heartbreak intertwine in all that’s left unsaid.
Voices rise from outside walls with judgment cold and loud,
Casting stones from distant ground, assured and stern and proud.
They question pain they’ve never felt, condemn what they don’t know,
While those within the storm endure a far more brutal blow.
The truth is not a simple thread that neatly can be tied,
It’s woven through with sacrifice and tears that won’t subside.
To speak of such a fragile wound invites a heavy cost,
Yet silence too can bury souls already feeling lost.
For some, the climb back to the light is steep but still is real,
A fragile path through broken ground where time begins to heal.
But many wander endlessly, their strength too worn to fight,
Consumed by endless craving’s pull that dims their inner light.
And those who love must stand aside, made small in moments grim,
Watching as their presence fades against that urgent whim.
No easy cure, no gentle road, no painless way to mend,
Just fractured hope and stubborn love that refuses still to end.
So think before you cast your blame on hearts that dare to try,
For courage often wears a face that’s wet with tears, not dry.
The cost of love can cut so deep it echoes through the years,
In whispered guilt, in quiet rooms, in unrelenting fears.
And what of those who follow on, the children yet to grow?
What seeds are sown in fragile minds within this undertow?
A future shaped by present pain may carry hidden scars,
A generation reaching out through shadows toward the stars.
Copyright © Ven Bunce 2026
The poem above is about the trials and tribulations of living with a ‘Skunk’ addicted son who has turned a loving family environment into a ‘living hell’.
The family have tried every avenue available to help their son who they still love dearly but who seems to either not want to kick his addiction, or who can’t kick it. In the meantime the family unit is being subjected to physical violence, verbal abuse and stealing to fund this habit.
Now Skunk is not like your normal Weed. It is far stronger, very addictive, and causes very real psychological harm to the brain. While everyone hopes the son gets serious help and cures his disposition, the prognosis is not good for anyone on Skunk or even ‘Crack cocaine’.
Glue sniffing used to be the easiest ‘high’ to start with, and then the usual progression from there. As usual, parents are the last to know. When they do find out, they often seek help everywhere, but just hit brick walls all the time. The stealing is relentless. The court appearances are relentless, as they get caught trying to ‘fund’ the habit that spirals financially out of control.
Violence almost always follows in families plagued by this ‘cancer’ in society. Usually for small amounts of money, but just enough to get them their next hit. A family that has been lucky enough to avoid this misery ‘cannot’ even hope to understand the depths of despair that every involved parent goes through watching their child sink into a drug induced abyss. The fact is, some do manage to pull things round and enjoy what we call a normal life. But far too many simply don’t have that drive and determination needed.
We’re not talking easy options here. There is very real physical and emotional pain involved in kicking these drug addictions, and the worse part is, you know that you are insignificant in their lives at the time they are physically craving their next hit or fix.
Think twice, three times, or as many as it takes, before ever condemning a parent for showing such bravery.
Also remember; That we now have whole generations of drug-dependant parents bringing up the ‘new’ generation in drug influenced family units. The very children that are OUR future could all be drug confused adults in 30 years time and probably lees!…. Then What??
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Thank You … Ven …
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