T.V. Addict
By Ian
- 793 reads
T is for
T.V. Addict
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He,s a slob
A blubber filled blob
Merged with the comfy chair
A home grown couch potato
Eyes riveted to the magic box
With it,s rays eating at his lonely brain cell
His hand caresses the remote control
Finger poised with precision to change channels
Seven a.m......click......telly,s on
He watches dross, moving wallpaper
Daytime drivel, soaps and quizzes
The orange faces of the presenters
Mould his face into shapes of laughter,
Of tears, of wonder, of indifference
Noon time, spoon time
The slob moves
Sliding to the fridge for food and drink
The mouth masticates and consumes noisily
T.V dinners, nuts, chips, little nibbly niblets
They join Coke, coffee and beer
In his expanding guts
Stained like a soup on his string vest
The day drags on and darkens
Emmerdale is his only fresh air fix
Is he alive or dead?
Then slowly the telly raises it,s leg
And switches the watcher off for the night;
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