twilight gathers close around, as the man in the corner twists and shouts scratching his neck for the fix he can't find, twisting and shouting, another day ends. he wants to believe you, he wants you to be right, find another path they tell him, so you can fight another night. as the itch it starts to burn, and the burn becomes a rush it's getting hard to fight today, please, just please let this end tonight.
write another poem, maybe that will stop the itch.