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.
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