Poem about Drug?

The Creed
Hello, it's interesting that ppl are still reading and remembering this poem. I had it hanging in my room back in 1974 in the form of a blacklight poster with the Grim Reaper floating up and over the poem it's self. The title on the poser was The Creed. It was an amazing and powerful poem even back then and I have looked for many years to find a copy of the poster I had. I don't remember any more then the opening to it, but although what's been sent to you is mostly right ppl have changed it slightly over time. The opening paraghraph reads.

So now little man you've grown tired of grass, LSD, cocain, and hash, and someone pretending to be a true friend, said "I'll introduce you to Ms. Heroin".

That's all I remember well except the last line was "And then you will be mine till death do us part!" If you find anyone who really has information about where to find the original writing, please let me know. I have looked for years now to find a copy of that poster, since it made such an inpact on me as a teenager.

Thank you,
ciao

I would set the record staight about this poem "it was written by a high school girl in 1988. She was NOT a user. So can u all please stop saying that they done it or that they were a user as i have the evidence of a letter that was written to this certain person from the girl who wrote the poem and it was actually titled "Take me in your arms" so people have just been taking the credit for it and also adding bits on to it or taking bits of it but i can assure you the it was written by a High school girl in 1988.

thank you
L

This poem isnt written about a london detective or a school girl or any of yer horror storys av been hearin it was written by a heroine addict in Barlinney jail in Glasgow. It was originally called Miss Heroine. The guy who wrote it had been a heroine addict for about 40 years and died in jail. This poem was found in his cell and then released for school books that you get in R.E and stuff. I hav seen the originall copy trust me think a school girl could realy understand the chills and thrills of heroine especially is she isnt a user? if you really want a copy tht bad go to barlinney jail am sure they will have a copy or ask about Gasgow its not hard to get one here

Miss Heroin
L,
I beg to differ. You said this poem was written by a little girl in 1988, that is impossible. I had the poem on a poster (like others that have posted here) on the wall in my basement. The poster hung there at least 10 years before 1988. So the little girl must have copied it.

I have the newspaper article from 1971 "Miss Herion&quo
I have the original newspaper article from 1971 with the artwork. The author was unknown then and is still unknown. The artwork with the poem suggests that it very well could be a convict that wrote the poem because it is very similar to con-art of the 1970's. I will email you a copy if you want it, I just wanted to set the record straight. This is the earliest published version of this poem I have ever found, My wife clipped the article from a military newspaper in 1971.
appraisal.evb@gmail.com

I remember the same poster in 1978 at a persons home and it was also very powerful to me. I wish I would have never found out years later how true it was.

rags

My mother made a photocopy of this poem in our local newspaper I think in the 70's. It was reported that a local man (last name Elfeson) wrote it. It was found in his jail cell the day after he hanged himself in Rockford, Illinois. I am looking for the exact month date of his death.

my grandmother gave me that poem back in the 7o's I was looking for it myself to give to my daughter for a school project but can't find it. I had it written down and misplaced it. There is such a poem I had that it was an anonomys author so I don't know where to find it either

This poem: My Heroin(e), copyrighted to Michael Scarcelli: 09/20/2009. License to use for educational purposes only - Do not copy or distribute. Author retains all rights. It is a love poem written to a heroine addict, by a non-addict, with hope she can get clean.

I am beginning to want you, before I even know you.
I am wanting to save you, before I can hold you.

And I am mad, which for both of us is true;
But my addiction is not brown or white - it is you.

For you express your distress, with artistic disdain;
And you so eloquently allude to your tumultuous pain.

But still, you make me nervous and weary of your plays,
for I am not ignorant of the street corner’s ways.

And I am cautious and slow, experienced enough to know,
that the tiger will always kill, for only blood can satisfy its fill.

But I am not a lamb to be sacrificed;
just a man who found his way from a life of vice.

And now that our lives have crossed, mixed-up and lost,
we are found, in these northern, cold-wintered towns.

What could it mean, this life, this dream?
Could that which is broken, ever mend?
Or will seeking out the familiar fix always be the end?

And I could let go, like the river and flow.
My mind a stream, wandering with gleam.

But I could stay; together we may,
make sense of it all, and forever, we fall.