The Cylindrical Cycle

I stand outside and watch as the wind moves across my yard blowing leaves into a frenzy of swirls. Suddenly, they fall into a heap of shapes that mean nothing more to me than raking.
The house on the corner isn’t deserted but looks that way; it might as well be for the care it receives. The leaves and grass have taken over on the outside while visions of what drugs offer reign freely on the inside.
The aroma of marijuana often finds its way into my nostrils.
I wonder about reality and what drives anyone to elude life for a trip into a world of fantasy by wrapping their minds around a white cylindrical piece of paper. We can glide into fantasy without such things...give rise to the wonders of our mind.
I realize they are young...some in their early 20’s. They come and go all through the day and night. The windows are kept blocked to the outside world, yet the outside world can mentally see in.
I often think of the family that lived there not so long ago; loving care always given to their family, home,yard, and all things that we deem proper.
Working for a number of years as a nurse in a drug rehab facility, I heard many stories of childhood abuse, and some were despicable. But there were many cases where drug use was not the result of being from abusive homes. How things can change from year to year and from life to death.