TEEN TALK

"Don't be a wimp, come have a drink," A friendly co-ed said,
One, two, then three - Could this take me, Down with the daring dead?
A silent whisper from within, Warned of a rocky road,
Where fearful gnomes in darkened tones, Demanded heavier loads.

"No thanks," I said, "I'll pass this one." Their words become a taunt.
"Be one of our crew, we've picked you, And naught for friends you'll want."
My frightened ego cried in pain, Can these my true friends be?
My own small war I fought within, To set my conscience free.

I chose a group of other friends, And noted later on,
Former friends slipped into drugs. Their power in life had gone.
Death's chilly hands continued on, As darker darker channels led,
Some struggled through its murky depths, Some were the living dead.