Ranting Drunkard

Member since 2003 · Posted 24 Jul 2003 · 4 comments

Sweat pours Over my forehead Laying in bed Thinking... (crouching over, leaning For that damn bottle) Drinking, breath heavy My sight is getting blurry Again.. (rumbling stomach) Shit, please, don't need To puke once again.. I wonder when this Lonely party began.. Between flashbacks Of the beach And all the memories Death left me I burp, the sour Air. Me and this bottle Are some pair.. Thinking I don't care Keep whining, Life isnt fair.. I know, I know Same ole cliche A drunkard, his memories Disgusting grunts Inbetween flips Of the middle finger The walls are My pals, sitting here Thinking, I could use Some pretty gals.. (Gulp, gulp, gulp..) Heads whirlin again.. When did my Lone soul Party Begin.. Forgot when... (slump)

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mean 5.25 weighted 5.03 rank 7265 views 219 View voting details →

4 votes so far. Yours would make 5.4 votes so far

4 comments

[6] horus8 24-Jul-03/2:05 PM Reply

Good lord, Try Absynthe and quit moanin'. A poet chirping about drinking... what are you? from Salt lake city?

[n/a] Don-Quixote › horus8 24-Jul-03/2:44 PM Reply

I prefer pure wormwood extracts... ;)

[8] Druid_Girl_1984 27-Jul-03/1:55 PM Reply

This is a very interesting poem. I can almost see someone laying in bed drunk and about to pass out. 8

[6] horus8 › Druid_Girl_1984 27-Jul-03/2:20 PM Reply

Sure you can, and I bet you do often.