You will again inevitably stumble around an
Unsuspecting corner in which you’re
Forced again to see the depravity
You’d once called home
Where you once believed you were living
But indeed, were dying
In a coffin of your own making, silently
Begging for another nail.

At that moment,
Yearning for the next corner
You’ll make its approach better armed
With greater humility
And irrefutable dignity
You forgot you had since earned
From that same, shameful street where you once lived.

Addicts survive by the painful remembrances from where they came and the marvelous paths of where they are now going.