Keeping It Real: I
had a drug problem when I was young.
I was drug to family reunions and community socials no matter the weather and whether I wanted to go or not.
I was drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to weddings and funerals.
I was drug by my hair when I was disrespectful to adults and got my tail beat.
I was also drug to the bed and ordered to lay across, when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher, or if I didn’t put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me.
I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out with soap if I uttered a profanity and put on punishment to boot.
I was drug to the homes of family, friends, and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, wash some clothes, clean their house, cook some food and, if my mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back to the house and whipped my butt.
Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my behavior, in everything I do, say, and think. They are stronger than cocaine, crack, heroin, meth, alcohol or weed; and, if today’s children had this kind of drug problem, America would be a better place.
God Bless the parents who drugged us! Ya Dig?...
I was drug to family reunions and community socials no matter the weather and whether I wanted to go or not.
I was drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to weddings and funerals.
I was drug by my hair when I was disrespectful to adults and got my tail beat.
I was also drug to the bed and ordered to lay across, when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher, or if I didn’t put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me.
I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out with soap if I uttered a profanity and put on punishment to boot.
I was drug to the homes of family, friends, and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, wash some clothes, clean their house, cook some food and, if my mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back to the house and whipped my butt.
Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my behavior, in everything I do, say, and think. They are stronger than cocaine, crack, heroin, meth, alcohol or weed; and, if today’s children had this kind of drug problem, America would be a better place.
God Bless the parents who drugged us! Ya Dig?...
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