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The light burned silently in her tray
flaring at infrequent intervals to take the powder
flickering toward the brilliant needle
which now leapt into her eager vein

Flat on her back
losing consciousness
the lamp above reminding her
of her lonely existence
the man who tortured her soul
semi detached houses in useless suburbs

Unused cars in unwanted lives
children lying homeless
near beaten wives
men in suits
struggling to survive
against newly spun immigrants in her countryside

Where the needle laid flat
the light burned to death
her man departed
to another bus stop
rain fell slowly on another night

Where syringes filled with blood
met living room floors
mud stained carpets
lay under half open doors
the television breathing quietly on test pattern
her light went out