Monday, April 2, 2012

Poetic Scoundrel


Another night, another stupor,
Another day, I turn the page...
Swimming in cesspools with idiots,
Shaken dry, I'm a witty sage.

I run with the down trodden,
Liquor flowing to drown our rage...
Jotting down notes while sobering up,
To celebrate life's every stage.

I smell like a Gallo jug screw cap,
Marinated in life's long sorrows...
Coming to in a dumpster or castle,
Still holding on to better tomorrows.

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