Southern Gazette (South Perth) - - Opinion -

I WAS in Perth re­cently see­ing all the well-dressed young peo­ple on their way to lunches and meet­ings for the Mel­bourne Cup.

As I came up the es­ca­la­tor from the sta­tion I heard a soft voice say­ing: “Can you spare some change.”

I looked to see a young man sprawled on the con­crete stretch­ing out his hand.

He was, I would say, an ice ad­dict. He was filthy, shoe­less and looked like he was dy­ing. Peo­ple walked past, ig­nor­ing him.

I stopped be­cause for one mo­ment I thought he was my son who is a drug ad­dict liv­ing on the streets.

I won’t ever forget the sight of that poor young man and I won­der what is wrong with our so­ci­ety when there are peo­ple out there, sick peo­ple suf­fer­ing from the ter­ri­ble drug.

My son is there some­where. He was in re­ha­bil­i­ta­tion for some months but we lost him again soon af­ter his dis­charge.

I can’t have him liv­ing with me but I know that one day I will be told that he has died from his way of life or is mur­dered.

He is al­ways in my thoughts and there are days when I go look­ing for him in the city parks. But I know that he is lost to me and I will never forget the des­per­ate look of the young man ly­ing in the street. Name and ad­dress sup­plied.

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