The Drunkard

l° see him dance with his heart It supports him more than his legs would His smile, genuine to the word And, its a smile to the whole world In him l° see a free man Maybe for the moment His slippers barely perform its duty Whether decorative or protective His shirt You may slap ?e for using the word, shirt Yet, he adorned it with pride Visibly with a bottle of Gulder That should be his 5th Don't ask ?e if l° was counting From his behaviour, l°t won't be any less He is a world of his own At least for the moment His eyes bribed by alcohol Has refused to perform its duties Like the a Nigerian Officer They are open, but that's all This man here thinks of no house Nor does he fancy any car l° doubt if he ever dreams Perhaps only of his merry life In him a see the simplicity of life The very nonchalance of existence l° would sometime imitate him For whatever the world is worth This feeling is better experienced than written about. l° choose to call him the drunkard Who lives like life is a passing privilege.