Boozer
The
deeper that sorrow chips at me,
The more joy that I can hold,
The longer I remain on the outside,
The less that I feel the bitter cold,
Its not all right, it’s not all wrong,
This melancholic to and fro,
I’m trying to put my best foot forward,
Trying to let my good side show.
You wouldn’t believe how much I want to fuddle,
One more to follow the last,
Something cold, to be still my soul,
To mute my demons at last,
I’m trying to work out,
What I’m trying to say,
Distil a life into a line.
I’m almost afraid to say cheerio,
To the hang ups I’ve held on to so long.
I’m sitting here alone, on my drinker’s throne,
Trying to sing along to a bittersweet song.
It all has to stop, this pain this rot,
I need to pick myself up off the floor,
Put down this death, pick up my health,
See if I’ve the perseverance to open the door.
-Jefferson
Davis-
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Hello Jeffy,
Love the poem which reads like an Irish song really…
Top-class!
Thank you…thank you very much, Susan.
I agree – very good.
Thank you, Marie.