Thursday, August 11, 2016

X.

Plastic bag,
Filled with the beer,
That does not,
Make me call you,
My dear,
Rather I would have had,
Poured something stronger then me,
But little do we know,
When we go to lost places,
Joining the group,
Dreaming about a coup,
In literature,
If ever,
Then now,
May truth be told,
Two blondines,
Walk the street,
Looking for a nice foreign treat,
We sit across,
And call out,
The more the merrier,
I wonder if thy know,
Just how much,
I've been waiting,
For a moment like this,
To talk to a stranger,
That seems a better friend,
Then those I have,
About you and you and you,
For he does not judge,
My habit of hanging on,
To all that we've lost,
He understands,
It's the talk of booze,
Or love.

Choose, choose, choose,
Who are your friends,
Who is your family?




















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