Alcoholics
iconoclastic poets
with no evidence
of skill or polish
in the existing
system of boredom
violence of love
unmasked and naked
splashed on the rites
of the system
threatening and powerless
risking anarchy for freedom
disfigured finds solace
in the clutches of
fermented purple grapes
we call them alcoholics
Copyright © Francis Osho | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment