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A "Skrewball poem" , or in short "a Skrew" , is a poem with short lines and multiple rhyming or repeated words, often wi...

Saturday, 23 November 2002

The Man In The Spoon

I sit with my fix,

Alone in my chair.

The man in the spoon,

With gear for hair.

He winks as he smiles,

His dirty grin.

The juice of his blood,

I inject through a pin.

His aura is dark,

The buzz keeps me sane.

A sudden hit of lethargy,

Seeps through my brain.

My eyes are his,

As he looks into the sky.

A brainwashing exercise,

The need to get high.

Our meeting of minds,

Entwine another earth.

A life long habit,

The mans secret curse.

Before long its all over,

His presence starts to fade.

A scores worth of junk,

My day he's just made.

I turn the spoon over,

I need him no more.

He's tucked away carefully,

Until the next time I score.


© 2002 All Rights Reserved Robert Reid


Another old poem I found from my 2002 website at the height of my drug abuse.

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