Tired eyes and drowsy feet

Head still nodding to the beat

Of a favourite old song

Mouthing the words. Sing along.

Long days and shorter nights

Anxious faces, stupid fights

A fix, a fume, a jerk, awake

How many does it take?

Bigger and bigger

Feed it more food.

The feeling

Is bad. Is good.

You couldn’t touch me if you tried.

I wouldn’t flinch if you cried.

Somehow the charm is lost

At too tremendous a cost.