The Cost of Hatred

A rough poem I quickly wrote about steroids.

I was a witty ladies man 

Respected and blessed

Then I decided to push my luck to the test

I needed to push more, lift some more weight.

However I knew my path wasn't actually my own fate.

You see as of late, the devil recently decided my fate.

Because the needles I'm shooting aren't filled with pain.

Because pain is the only product of this drug's reign.

I lost it all, my love and my mind

You see my anger raged and hated for countless days

Forever blind in the steroid haze

Guided but nothing except rage in a maze