The old lady once flushed
a twenty-five dollar
bag of smack
on me.
We were fighting
over my habit;
which believe me.
I had, under control!
I could've killed her!
Not that I couldn't
score some more.
Real-life isn't the movie
'Panic in Needle Park'.
There's always more
somewhere
if you're a working junkie,
but.
I could've killed her over it
that night.
37 ways without getting caught
I figured.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem