Leading (a sonnet)

Leading

Whenever I went shopping, when told the total
For my groceries, I would have to add
"And twenty Silk Cut please." Is that purple?
They'd ask, and I'd say yes, and then feel bad
When I added, "Make that thirty, instead",
Knowing that I'd never make it through the day
And would otherwise, before the day was dead,
Have to climb into my car, make my way
To a twenty-four hour service station.
I thus ensured I had enough shit-sticks
To enable narcotic satisfaction
To the point of feeling just slightly sick.

It is madness, is it not, to be led
So by a drug, and not by heart and head?