The Alcoholic

The Alcoholic Parley poem Lionel Derbyshire Dirty dufflecoat wino Zigzag up the street Wobble wobble.. Topsy-turvey on the one side And half past puzzled His body form Is out of order His odour sour Orphaned at eight He explained Never had a chance Of a lifetime I am just the formation Of Adam's forlorn spawn I the antonym of pleasant Eat my dinner On the floor Without gravy No one ever Belled out a A good word to me Not even at home Mine hands were Cooked on the stove I was called The Bastard in the house And it was painfull Sensitively he said. What do you have? I only have lonely Never ever heard I love you What do you want? Just cheer from a Dumb bartender What do you fear? The confrontations in My nightmares Pardon me.. I am bitter. Never had a chance To be a revelant Joe Just a parched alcoholic Dry in overtime captivity. I tang of dispair. I have tiny gravity But heavy To hoist.. And a will Which is lost This is my lot He told with Blue eyes beaming And then he laid Amazing Grace On my ears.