I’ll tell you the tale of little Seth

Sadly addicted to crystal meth.

And though he was only five or six,

He couldn’t wait till his next fix.

Forget the taffy and the chocolate,

Seth was just a meth-aholic.

No time for play—no time for stories

Holed up in his laboratory.

He missed Christmas glazed and crazed.

His parents thought ‘twas just a phase.

He missed his birthday numb and dumb.

His parents checked their stock of rum.

If only they’d looked in the cellar–

If only they’d employed their smellers–

If only they had found the beakers

Beneath the bed, behind the sneakers–

Seth might be alive today,

Able to run and jump and play.

Instead he blew the house asunder,

And now he’s buried six feet under.