Unchain the bars,
Before I hit the bar,
Far and lone,
Young and restless,
They try to stop me,savages,
But my lust beats them all,
2 a.m it is,
And everyone's retired,
Reprieve at last!
Engaging my daily dose of pleasure,
Inevitable before my eyes,
Pestering me, the 'pilgrims' cannot,
My regime reigns,
Broken glasses just like one's soul,
The drowning song,
Soothes the smothered throat,
And the smooth booze,
Gives the deserted solace.
YOU ARE READING
THE BOY ON THE BRIDGE.
PoetryThe weakest ink harbors the strongest minds. A collection of thoughts that will blow your mind. Some emotions laced herein are quirky, any similarity to real characters is just a mere coincidence*
