Hook Line And Sinker.

A dirty needle pierced his skin.
His skin ulcerous pale and thin.
The rush rushed to his head.
As he lay down on his urine sweat stained bed.
In a uncivilised heap he lay.
For him unconsciousness is just another day.
He will lay there till he pains.
Among dirty human stains.
Then he will look for a refill for his syringe.
On this deadly shit he does binge.
One day he won’t wake up.
One day he will overfill his cup.