A Brush With Alcohol
A Brush with Alcohol
I had a scrape with it the other night
It left me in a blissful haze
With time less spent on useful things
And thoughts ablaze with vacancy
A surging warmth from deep within
To Play cruel havoc upon my skin
By painting rocacea on my pores
Bright red without the embarrassment
And change the order of my speech
To stumble and slur in gobbleygook
Lost inhibitions to mighty Bacchus
Who looks upon my sorry state
And mocks the sight of my wobbly gait
He took me to a far off place
Where nausea and vertigo existed
I could not keep apace of him
He relinquished his grasp and let me go
To remain awhile in torpid stupor
And afterward he cast a frown
On glazed red eyes and pounding head
Then left me to my indulgent fate
Copyright © Rose Johnson | Year Posted 2017
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