Ballad of some Broken Dreams

Quitting can be hard, you see,
When boxing with a pipe it seemed
Was everything could ever be
And all in life I'd ever need.

To dream a lofty far off goal,
Something I would never tell
But kept within my wrinkled soul
Seeming more and more like hell.

Cutting off the ball and chain
Appeared to me the brighter side,
Ending the internal pain,
Restoring trust and long-gone pride.

But when the time to tell the truh
Came and went, the bitter scene
Did less to aching heart give soothe
Than rock and hard place wedge between.

Here on hand my smoking friends
Who, though in sin we took our fun
Chilling in the ill-known den,
Were in my life the only ones,

And on this side here gravely stood
The mom and man who'd been providers.
Their faith I'd smeared across like blood
Of egg-laying ignorant spiders.

And when alone, I fought myself:
Had my actions ruined life?
In what condition lay my health?
All I knew was anxious strife.

But conversation proved the key,
I spoke of these with those the wiser,
The answer to the mystery
Was tell the truth, not turn a miser.

So choices made are often wrong,
Adolescence throws us curves,
One must shift the path he's on
Or else become a boil of nerves.
Someday I will blaze again,
But not today my friends,
But not today my friend.