Sordid

The mixer doesn't concern me, my love.
I just want the vodka. I'd like to go numb.
The opiate I took at lunchtime, good
Company, seems to have gone. Now all
That I have, beside you, and you're
Wonderful, don't get me wrong,
Are those ethanol spirits, amnesia,
And sleep. Is my life sad and sordid?
There's no question it is, but tell me,
Whose isn't? Feel free to name names.
I don't believe that you can.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 68 times
Written on 2020-08-25 at 02:49

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