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Poem

I sit quietly, while I belittle a storm
That’s been brewing for some time. 
It crashes in a drunken rage,
And mellows out into the softening wind 
That is the next day. 
Shortly hereafter
It begins anew. 
A fresh theater,
And a fresh view. 
Feels good to end each day,
In the light of a drunken haze. 

A storm brews on the horizon, 
Fresh, and oh so new;
Beautiful neglect, yet…
I love it oh so true. 
Chaos and disorder rings in new,
A sown hatred I drew
Oh no, what to do?
Don’t care or give a shit,
“Stop your crying you *****…
You’re making me sick.
Calm down and take a sip,
And puff a little on this.”
Undereducated and too true; 
So weak, and oh so new. 

Too young and too stupid…
I pity you.
Toughen up and get through;
Its life, it’s here to wear on you,
Not cuddle and be a fool.
Now listen here,
A shot and some weed to make it true;
Vindictive and shortly rude,
Mixed apathy… I forget you.
Driven white lines chopped and hewed;
A little coke to go with this brew.
It’s part of the fun…
You followed through.”

Each day a storm brews,
Cold and mellow;
Yet it’s made to do. 
I live with it,
And I love it.
Messing with dangerous memories,
Blacked out and confused…
Just grab the bottle 
And follow through.

You learn to live, 
Than learn to lose. 
You find religion;
Or some drug use. 
Drown in sorrow, 
Than get numb on due. 
Shaded light that is the dawning flow;
But you see and just won’t go.
I love the end of everyday;
The dimming blue,
Found in my drunken haze.

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