I examine the toxic alcohol tainted fumes,
looking for an answer, searching for loves lost,
and opportunities tangled in the distant past.
Reaching for a future.
I recall the pub crawls and the booze soaked brawls
and in return receive a fist filled with splintered dreams
the boy i once was, three sheets to the wind ,
and drowning in my grief, hoping for a tomorrow.
Picturing where it all began and how i arrived here
lying in this metaphorical gutter.
I'm longing for that youthful lad, i lost
amongst the fag buts and the debauchery
wallowing in my melancholy.
Comments
LOL
Thanks and Whoops!!!!
its the lack of sleep.
Lou
Hope your eyes are healing
Dear Lou,
Excellent work... You've described my life b.s. (before Steven, LOL) The title can always be fixed. How about "Trashed"?
always, Cat
Cat
i'm so glad Steve came along, i hate to think you could have been so unhappy.
love lou
Dear Lou
sorrow repentance vividly expressed in this write...nicely done..