He stands on every shop corner or down a lane.
With black hooded eyes, he searches those that pass him by waiting in sheer anticipation for his next prey.
His clothes are filthy rags and his shoes are worn out.
All you see are those yellow stained teeth that hadn’t seen a toothbrush in months.
He is patient even though his body wants that fix to calm him.
Many times the men in blue chased him away but he is no longer scared of them.
His mouth spews out the most awful obscenities.
Then he catches sight of his prey, his shiny blade in his hand.
And before they know it he robs them of their money or goods.
He doesn’t care about the trauma they must go through.
He is only concerned about his fix; the fix that will send him into oblivion for just half an hour.
He hardly eats and can best be described as a bag of bones.
Sometimes you don’t see him standing there because he is plying his trade elsewhere and sowing fear into man’s heart and soul.
But he will be back doing what he does best. Shooting up is what he lives for.
You can’t get rid of him because there are many out there like him. At first glance you pity him but you soon learn that that’s not what he wants from you. You live hoping he will change but it’s often a false hope because chances are he will simply slide back into oblivion.
You are wary of him and his addiction.
His addiction is him
And he is his addiction.
It’s often too hard to understand and frustrating to see the light in the addicts eyes dim with each hit they take.
The Addict is you or me.
It could be any of us at any time .
