Poppy High

No one denies the beauty of the rose,
and yet its thorns are there for all to see.
In scarlet fields another flower grows.
Its make-up is more deadly by degree.

This blood-red symbol of our warring brave,
behind a lovely countenance it hides
euphoric properties that soon enslave.
Down to the dark abyss the user slides.

But, what of souls lost to addiction's curse?
They matter not when profiteers will gain
from poppies’ gifts that really are diverse;
for opiates can cause and counter pain.

So sometimes good and evil do exist,
within a pretty flower, sunlight kissed.