It calls out to broken little boys and girls,

Thrill seekers,

And the empty.

Its fragile casing veils the eye.
After all,
how could something so lovely be so harmful?

Colored glass and a note written:
“Drink me”
signed by the deceiving hand of the masses
Invites the weakened heart to wash its sorrows away.

Cramped, stifled, pushed away,
pain grows stronger than the chemical brain
of the feeble-hearted. 

How did they expect
the effect of the burning liquid to last forever?
It’s become their only lifeline.

A bleak reality shines true:

Poison comes in pretty bottles.