The Drug of Choice

I was told this is a true story. I can’t say it is or it isn’t, since I don’t know the girl. What I do know is; young people and old should read this. It is an important message written by the young girl herself.

This was written by a young girl who was in jail for drug charges, and was addicted to meth. She wrote this while in jail. As you will soon read, she fully grasped the horrors of the drug, as she tells in this simple, yet profound poem. She was released from jail, but, true to her story, the drug owned her. They found her dead not long after, with the needle still in her arm….

Please understand, this thing is worse than any of us realize…

My Name Is “Meth”
I destroy homes, I tear families apart, take your children, and that’s just the start.
I’m more costly than diamonds, more precious than gold,
The sorrow I bring is a sight to behold.
If you need me, remember I’m easily found,
I live all around you – in schools and in town.
I live with the rich; I live with the poor,
I live down the street, and maybe next door.
I’m made in a lab, but not like you think,
I can be made under the kitchen sink.
In your child’s closet, and even in the woods,
If this scares you to death, well it certainly should.
I have many names, but there’s one you know best,
I’m sure you’ve heard of me, my name is crystal meth.
My power is awesome; try me you’ll see,
But if you do, you may never break free.
Just try me once and I might let you go,
But try me twice, and I’ll own your soul.
When I possess you, you’ll steal and you’ll lie,
You do what you have to — just to get high.
The crimes you’ll commit for my narcotic charms
Will be worth the pleasure you’ll feel in your arms,
your lungs your nose.
You’ll lie to your mother; you’ll steal from your dad,
When you see their tears, you should feel sad.
But you’ll forget your morals and how you were raised,
I’ll be your conscience, I’ll teach you my ways.
I take kids from parents, and parents from kids,
I turn people from God, and separate friends.
I’ll take everything from you, your looks and your pride,
I’ll be with you always — right by your side.
You’ll give up everything – your family, your home,
Your friends, your money, then you’ll be alone.
I’ll take and take, till you have nothing more to give,
When I’m finished with you, you’ll be lucky to live.
If you try me be warned – this is no game,
If given the chance, I’ll drive you insane.
I’ll ravish your body, I’ll control your mind,
I’ll own you completely, your soul will be mine.
The nightmares I’ll give you while lying in bed,
The voices you’ll hear, from inside your head.
The sweats, the shakes, the visions you’ll see,
I want you to know, these are all gifts from me.
But then it’s too late, and you’ll know in your heart,
That you are mine, and we shall not part.
You’ll regret that you tried me, they always do,
But you came to me, not I to you.
You knew this would happen, many times you were told,
But you challenged my power, and chose to be bold.
You could have said no, and just walked away,
If you could live that day over, now what would you say?
I’ll be your master, you will be my slave,
I’ll even go with you, when you go to your grave.
Now that you have met me, what will you do?
Will you try me or not? It’s all up to you.
I can bring you more misery than words can tell,
Come take my hand, let me lead you to hell.
If you care enough, please forward this profound poem and share the deadly outcome of this drug that is killing our young kids young and old…
please look at my picture what it did to me!!!


This is Uncalled For

toddlers1I was reading the trends on Facebook and came across this post. This happened in Louisana and it is very uncalled for. I decided to post this as a warning to parents or who ever is watching the kids.

Under no circumstances leave small children alone at home or in a car or anywhere where there is no adult supervision or a person you absolutely know you can trust in emergencies. This mother left her children alone while she ran an errand. Do you know what the important errand was? She wanted to get her hair done. This home burned and the children inside died. Please, I know it is easier to run inside the house to grab something. It is easy to leave other children in the car while you drop one of the kids off at the babysitters, or run inside the convenient store for just a moment. A child’s life just isn’t worth it, in no way, no way at all.

(Source: Louisiana State Fire Marshal’s Office)

BASTROP, La. (AP) — The State Fire Marshal’s Office says the mother of two small children, who died in a house fire, has been arrested for leaving them at home unattended.

Investigators says they are still piecing together their findings in Monday’s tragic fire that claimed the lives of 4-year-old Ta’shae Thompson Johnson and her 3-year-old brother, Clifton Thompson Johnson.

Authorities say 21-year-old Ciarria Johnson left her children unattended for hours while she was having her hair styled.

Johnson was booked Tuesday on two counts of negligent homicide in the death of her children.

It was unclear whether she has an attorney.

Time Is Not On Our Side

It is that time of year again. Time to bow our head and say a prayer to the one above. We should be thanking God that we did survive 9/11. Many were taken from loved ones. We watched in horror on our television sets as the disasters happened; feeling hopeless and praying like crazy that those people would remain alive.

Today is a very good day to put into practice where we are at in our own lives. There  have  been rumors floating about the attack coming once again. Whether this is true or not; it does bring to mind what I mentioned above.

No matter where you live or how rich or poor, if an attack happens in our area, are we ready? If we had a half an hour in advance warning that we would not have our homes, our children, our jobs or families or our own lives, what would be the first thing on our minds?

This is nothing like hearing a tornado siren coming.




It wouldn’t be a warning on the television asking you to close all of your windows due to high winds and too much rain. No, this would be a warning that the only one who would be in touch with it would be ourselves.

Maybe our first instinct would be to check and see where our medications are or grab our most important items out of the safe; but let’s face it, does any of that matter when we may be facing our last half hour of our lives?

Now is the time to take warning. Check out where your heart is. Do you know for a fact that you will go to heaven? Is there doubt? Today, September 10, 2-14 we have time. Time to make changes, time to change our priorities, but let’s not fool ourselves. There really isn’t as much time as we believe there is.








I Am So Pissed Off




What in the world is wrong with this world? I am so freakin pissed off. I don’t usually get this way, but for heaven’s sake, there is a family somewhere out there that, that boy belongs to.

Would I want that to be my last visions if that was my child, laying in the street, uncovered, for all eyes to gawk at? I wasn’t there but the report says the kid tried to still cigars and roughed-up a store owner. I admit that is wrong, but should he be gunned down, when he had no weapons  on him? Should he be gunned down when he tried to give himself up? He was shot, still managed to stand once again, and shot to death, and then had to lay there all to bare.

I am sorry, but how many times is a human being going to be  shot by a police person who tries to surrender. I am so glad I am the age I am. I don’t want to see how much more wicked and cruel this earth can become.

By the way, what took so long for the EMS to arrive? Long enough for a large gathering to appear. Long enough to video the entire scene. I can hear the people screaming in the background, and I am not sure if I was there, I wouldn’t be screaming the same words.

God help us all. Satan is surely alive.


He was hiding under the bridge, shaking, dirty and afraid. His parents were not worthy of being called parents. Glued brains, wasting life, never thinking of anything but how to get more money to buy more drugs.

One day Lee decided he was leaving the shell called home. He had been beaten and blood was the most he had ever seen. He waited until it was dark so no one would see his open sores he left. Wild dogs chased him and he climbed trees. Fresh blood seemed to bring out the wild, the eager, the breathing, and it scared him so bad he used leaves to wipe his tears.

He was so frightened. Cats mating, seemed like Halloween nights. Owls made their presence known. Crazy birds whispered hard, letting him know he was trespassing. He shook so hard leaves made it seem like they were cold.

He finally climbed out of the tree and ran quickly. He made it to the water’s edge. Listening to the water ripple against the edge made him a bit calmer but the darkness seemed richer as small lights twinkled on the top of the water.

When he looked farther to the left he saw orange. He walked towards it and then realized it was fire. As he neared he saw several people gathered around big barrels of fire. He went towards under the bridge, still close to the edge of water in case he had to leave quick.

He hid there and crouched. There was a dirty blanket laying close by and he picked it up and molded himself with in it. Maybe he was trying to  hide, to keep his blonde hair from showing. He tried to breathe softly, but his heart was beating fast and he could not stop hearing each breath he took.

So quiet, he could hear crickets and frogs. He could hear the splash of fish jumping. Soon he began to settle and was being hypnotized by the silence. Within a short time someone touched him on the shoulder.

He turned quickly, trying to stand up and tripping over himself. A scary man-made it very clear he wanted the blanket. It was his. Lee tossed it to him and took off running, looking for a safer place to stay. He ended up being at a pillar that was holding up the bridge. He knelt down and tried to hide behind it. No one seemed to notice him and while trying to keep an eye out for himself, he fell asleep.

When he woke up he was sitting on a hard chair with bright lights blinding him. He discovered he was in a police station. His parents were standing in front of him.


clouds 2

The Iron Skillet Feeling

This morning has been terrible. I woke up to Al being awake. He had, had a BM first off and was complaining about this. I cleaned him up and wondered why he is having these so often, when he never used to even go by himself without medication.

He was crabby, very crabby. He was complaining about his arm, his butt and his ear. I checked his ear and it was bleeding. Just yesterday it was completely healed. Now it was crusty and white illness was draining from inside his ear.

I doctored it the best way I know how. He had a temperature of 104.2. I immediately gave him his medication. He was stuttering and I couldn’t hear a word he was trying to say without playing the guessing game, which I did.

When I watched his lips I realized they were not moving. I asked him to  open his mouth for me and it looked like a giant spider web. The infection was inside his mouth and it was gluing his lips together.

Once again I swabbed his mouth to allow his lips to move. His eyes were draining. He had a sore on  his buttocks. His one arm was slightly covered by a throw blanket and he was complaining about this. I uncovered it. He wanted the fan on so I turned it on low.

He wanted breakfast so I gave him some pudding and he ate two bites and wanted no more. I think Al is so miserable that he doesn’t have any choice but to complain. He asked why there is no nurse here.

I told him it wasn’t her day to come. He asked where staff was and I said we don’t have much staff here any longer and that he would have to learn to be content with me more often.

He asked why no one wanted to come help me and I had nothing to say. I wanted to pipe up with because you and I have leprosy, but I kept my big mouth shut. I got a call from the caregiver saying the two bosses want to come over today and shadow or train watching us take care of Al.

Now here I got a little snotty to myself I guess. For one, these two bosses are never going to come here and work. They are office people and have their own responsibilities. For another reason, these are the two that sprang the unannounced visit the other day.

I told staff I don’t give a hoot. It is a bad morning. I feel like I am going to have a panic attack. Al is in a crabby mood. Tell them I don’t care if they come, and if they don’t come, it’s alright too.

A thought entered my mine at that very moment. I can’t do this anymore. I am going to be forced to place Al in a nursing home. He is miserable. Then I started fighting, trying to stay strong.

I had been practically begging Hospice to let me give Al a special cream for extreme pain. They have continued to tell me no. Letting me know that most care givers don’t apply it right. I told her I had used it with other patients and was very familiar with it. She ignored my plea.

I decided to call  Hospice after leaving Al’s room. There was not one nurse available. I ended up being forwarded to the administrator nurse where I got a voice recording. She did call back and pretty much said, ” I will give his primary nurse a call. She is off today, but she is familiar with his case. I just think his illness is too rare and I can’t help you.”

Wow, I thought, the head hauncho doesn’t even know how to handle Al’s MSA, this makes me feel real comfy. This regular nurse informed me yesterday when she was here that she wasn’t going to be coming tomorrow either; that a replacement would be sent. This seems to be a regular thing week after week. She is rarely here on Fridays. I feel like it has something to do with the fact I bitched about wanting a Hospice visit three times a week instead of two.

She called me about twenty minutes later and insisted that I give him this one medication she had brought. I fought it for two reasons. One, it makes him wired and he doesn’t sleep. Two, I am the only care giver today minus two hours and I didn’t want to have to fight this whole, ugly mess all day.

I asked her to please get me the cream. She said no. She said Al was too wet and too oily. I said, ” What? He hasn’t sweated for a couple of months or so.” She then said, ” His skin is too oily, so the answer is no.” She said his Bm’s are from his illness, just part of the process. She said there is nothing more to be done about his ear.

I felt defeated, slammed to the floor, helpless with nowhere to turn. Here I have a brother who is miserable as all get out. A high fever I am fighting. His bed sores, his body locking in place. His ear bleeding. His mouth a cob web, and I get two hours of staff help so Al can have his bath, and not one damn nurse will come out nor help me.

I am so sorry my friends. I just feel like I have been beat down with an iron skillet and I can see nothing more anymore but black all around me and huge gobs of gloom.

iron skillet

What Do You Know or Believe?

Do you believe? I have days where I doubt. I have times where I want to  believe. Many years ago I was sitting in an old farmhouse with my girlfriend. Our kids were in bed and it was quiet.

She had been having issues with a marriage. What was God’s answers to marriage compared to her desires. This particular evening as we were sitting and talking she had a vision come to her.

I didn’t see anything. It was all hers, but I did see her rocker move. It scared me to be honest. She saw it to and she then told me of the vision she had. An elderly gentleman, who went to our church who had passed on, came to her and sat on her rocker.  Her answers she sought had been given to her. We talked and sort of laughed over the rocker. The night went on but I never forgot what had happened.

Then there is Al. What about what he says he sees? Is he really seeing our parents? Has he really had a vision of Jesus standing next to him? What about the late evening this past summer when my son and my nephew and I were sitting around the campfire, when the front door went slamming open. It remained open long enough that a person had enough time to exit the door.

I always think of the Ghost Hunters on TV as an entertaining program to watch for fun. Do I really believe this can happen? Do others have experiences that takes any doubt out of their mind that there are spirits living among us?

What about exorcism, do you believe in these? Can Satan disguise himself as a person and play cruel jokes on our minds?

I am watching Dr. Phil right now. The topic is on spirits living in our human world. Famous people who I think are good people are on there explaining their own stories. Dr. Phil, whom I really enjoy watching, says he is a skeptic, but open-minded enough to listen.

I just wanted to get your opinions. Anything you have to say, or a story to tell, there will be no judging. Feel free to write a comment to me. Like I said, there are times I want to  believe, and other times I am as Dr. Phil, a skeptic.dr. philghosts

Photo Fiction; The Alley

chainsEvery minute, every day

The chains do bind me

Locking me in my own mind

Ne’re letting me escape

Oh why must you do this

Have I not suffered enough

For I have tried to free myself

For so long now

But you tighten more

And you gag my lips

You keep me within your sight

For ever more I am yours

Your puppet on a string

I dance for you and sing

And afterwards I weep

As this is truly not who I am

Nor who I want to be

The chains, the fear

That once was yours, now mine

Help me O Lord, set me free

Let me for once be

The woman you cast in me.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd


If There is Truly a God and a Satan

Up until last night I was able to find the little things in life that bring me joy. But I have almost given up as the truth is inside this house, there is no joy.

Moaning, screams of pain, rambling on where no words can be understood. Doctors saying nothing else can be done are just more than I can handle any longer.

Al is so angry at God. This is all a new side I have never seen. He says God is ignoring him and for the first time I have to question whether there truly is a God.

With Al being mentally challenged and completely bed bound there are no lessons for him to be learning anymore. Al can not see beyond the pain any longer. I can’t accept the answers that God may be using his illness to teach me something.

In fact that just irritates the crap out of me. I want to scream out loud, Don’t even use my brother to teach me a lesson. For then the guilt I carry within seeing him suffer is way beyond the stability that I try to carry.

If God has a lesson to teach me or if God thinks that by letting Al continue to suffer it will back fire, because all I can feel is anger within at seeing him suffer.

The moments that Al is not asleep is pure hell here. His body is contracted, his body is burning up. His vision is total blur. His body doesn’t tolerate the high doses of medications he is on. There is no balance. If you give him higher dose he abuses himself from the opposite effect the medicine should have.

The doctors are refusing to give him anything else. They don’t know the answers either. And if they don’t know the answers after years of schooling how can anyone expect me to know them.

When Al is awake I can hear Al screaming out, ” Please, please help me. Somebody help me. God why aren’t you taking me home?” These are words that are repeated so many times I can not begin to count them.

I can bring no comfort, no joy to his life. I have begun to feel like Al and I are actually living in hell and if there is a heaven, then surely this will be his reward when he passes. I continue to beg God,” If you truly exist than take him home now. There is no more perfect moment than now.” But, nothing happens. Al is still here and suffers a little more each day.

My body is drained. Doing housework has become a chore. Christmas coming makes me want to vomit. The joy of listening to Christmas music and baking sugar cookies makes me ill.

If Satan has tried every trick he has then he is winning over Al and it is trickling into me also. If there truly is a God and a Satan, which one is winning?