Sweetened with Folly

Taste; like death.
Burn of the throat,
Inches away from heart.
Who's it for?

Mind clouds,
Balance vanishes,
Friends become many and none.
Who's it for?

Too Angry.
Too Happy.
Too Sad.
Who's it for?

Vomit,
Violent emission,
Tells simple truth.
Who's it for?

Reason.
None.
Many.
Who's it for?

Slowly it kills.
More than cells; spirit.
Feel it burn out veins.
Who's it for?

It's not; internal patch.
It's not; twitch of the lips.
It's not; temporary release.
It's not; heaven sent, gift.

Who's it for?
Not your mother.

Who's it for?
Not your friend.

Who's it for?
Not that stranger.

So don't take the draught.
Made by hand of devil.
Sweetened with ungodly taste.

Takes a simple sip.
Turns to gulp.
Fills you with hate.

Remember but a warning.
Taught in early grave.
Turned to question all your forays.

Who's it for?

Who's it for?

Who's it for?

Certainly not you.