Addicted

It took me a while,

and a few screaming fits…

Before I could set aside,

My caffeine habit.

 

Mind you,

I had given up many times before,

And only managed to master,

The fine art of recidivism.

It’s so damn easy to sin.

 

Anyway,

Found my girlfriend,

reaching for the coffee jar

And stopped her straight-off.

“Not for me” said I, with resolve.

“Why darling?” she replied.” “Stomach-ache?”

“No. I’ve decided to quit”

“oh” was all she managed.

No matter.

I didn’t need no encouragement.

 

Went off to college…..

Like some hungover douche.

Moody and grouchy and sullen.

No difference there, of course.

And all I thought of,

Was coffee beans,

Ripe, brown, inviting.

The beans were everywhere.

 

I was going nuts,

Just thinking about them.

My girl kindly offered,

Some sort of fruit-punch

at the customary ‘coffee hour’.

 

And with these ministrations,

I made it!

My rehab went smoothly,

Until, one day…..

There wasn’t any fruit punch waiting.

“sorry sweetie, we’re out of soda”

“I’ll get some tomorrow.”

 

Oh well.

 

And that evening,

And all through the night…

All I thought about,

Was the fucking punch.

I could get addicted to anything.

Next day, I was reunited

with my Davidoff,

And my peace of mind.

My girl was scandalized thinking,

It was probably her fault…

I absolved her of any sort of sin.

“So….back to square one?” she sighed.

“Yup, said I. “About time too.”

I looked at her fondly.

“Some addictions aren’t worth giving up.”

 

 

 

 

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