Shit rant poems

Alot of stuff and losing my direction

Its a bit funny how

If given the time you should write

And if you have the effort

It should rhyme

Horribly and cringily like this

And when reading it you should keep in time

And its a good opportunity for

'Self betterment' or some bullshit

So you shouldnt whine

But rather wine

Like a forty year old mum of 3

If the bottle presents itself

As well as

Spirits and beers and tonics

Goon if your bogan heart so wish pleases

Simplee

Yes like the off brand noodles

Simplee put

If the alcoholic teat presents itself
Mine should latch upon if

But wait

Whoops

Oo fuck

Mistakes were made

I seem to be

Poetically drunk

But at least I'm not high

Or a disappointment to my parents

Wait

Mistake number two

Has been made

Precariously close to number one

I will just have to assume that I am the buffoon of this underworld

And that what I write and utter and gesticulate, do and walk

Has no direction

Its simply a way

With no way

And a flow

To a seemingly non existent

Uncertain

Non descript

Fictional

Metaphorical

Coordinate

But hey

Who knows

Perhaps a swig of whatever's in the nearest bottle

Will provide answers

Or a strong enough blow to my head to make me forget them

And a few other things too

Oh god i could never be a professional at this

I lose direction, meaning and everything by the end of each piece

And

I dont think thats how its meant to be