Poetry Blogs (2014, drunkard)
I drink like I’m a bastard,
Some say it suits me thus,
A soldiers quarrel with hard knock life,
And feelings bordering gluttonous,
Yet inside of me the clown refrains,
Let’s sorrow evolve its incubus,
Gives depressive daily states of pain;
The tears that bleed for all of us!
Michael J Waite 2nd September 2014.
Tuesday 2nd September 2014 11:22 pm