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Posted by MFish

My arms ache from hanging on,
To that pillar of sanity that
Controls our daily lives.
It has been said, by those
Who supposedly know,
That Poets usually succumb,
To the degradations of alcohol,
Lose their grip on reality
And become insane or die,
At an early age.
I am well on my way to
Becoming an accomplished drinker
And feel, that it is only a matter
Of time before sanity deserts
Me or my liver quits,
And then it's over.

Note! This was originally written approximately 40 years ago.

I lay in bed at darkest night,
I cannot sleep, so I will write.
Writing words that come to mind
like oil to water, I will find.
The words flow to paper and
I write them quickly, with my pen.
Words that mean so much to me,
Hoping that the readers will see,
The thoughts, that grew in the darkness
of my head now make sense or are a mess.
It is hard to write now, I approach the end
Hoping you will like this, just pretend.

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