Must Be An Earthquake
In the distance, a hazy skyline I see
So close, yet so far to reach, for me
On horizon, tall glassy structures and shapes
As I try to focus, my open mouth gapes
‘Tis not a city that’s coming to view
Its bottles of booze in white, brown and blue
And I’m on the floor just starting to wake
I fell off my stool, must be an earthquake
Or maybe that last one was packing a punch
I’m changing my diet, no more liquid lunch
Copyright © Mike Gentile | Year Posted 2018
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