Picture courtesy of drunkard.com
One drink, two drinks,
three drinks, four
Like a conveyor belt
they arrive ever more
As they go down
So the mind does too
Into strange places
and darkened rooms
And then the drunken
ramblings start
From a crowded mind
and a heavy heart
These confused thoughts
seep from locked rooms
Only leaking out
in hazy gloom
Oh the ramblings of
a jumbled mind
Two separate entities
and two of a kind
Advertisements
Posted in: Poetry
Posted on October 27, 2014
0