Quicklinks:
|
Great Writing - Home > Poetry > Ode to beer/The last hangover
| READING ROOM | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
| COMMUNITY | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
| ABOUT GREAT WRITING | ||
|---|---|---|
|
| WORK AWAITING REVIEW |
|---|
|
| GW IS... |
|---|
|
Great Writing creative writing community is designed to prompt ideas
and provide inspiration and motivation within aspiring and amateur
authors. Whatever your topic; from love poetry to Doctor Who or Harry
Potter fan fiction, Great Writing's online writing group is where you
can make new friends and improve your creative writing. |
| WHO'S ONLINE |
|---|
| We have 2264 guests online and 7 members online |
Poetry
| print friendly version | |
| Ode to beer/The last hangover | |
| By Tenchi | ||||||||||||
| 22 November 2006 | ||||||||||||
|
Yesterday I suffered all day, I still feel rough this morning. As I get older I can drink more but hangovers last longer as a result. Perhaps I should have put this in the 'non-fiction', but there's a little artistic licence. Farewell fair-weather fickle friend Forever I flea thee I fear our affair must needs some to an end I say goodbye; leave me be! Once, when young we had such fun But now you cripple me For a whole day I cringe from the sun And dare not wander far from t’privee When out with you I laugh and such I act the goat, the arse I sometimes cry and share too much So now our time must pass I go to bed and then my head Rotates, my room it spins I think of the sinful life that I’ve led And vow never again, it begins I couldn’t throw up, but lord how I wanted to make me feel better but memory flaunted my actions that night, I was witty and wise but the mornings daylight held a shitty surprise For work sadly beckoned And I would SO suffer My hangover reckoned I’d never feel rougher When in work like today I’m unable to function Shaking and retching I felt such compunction Never again will I touch a drop It’s rotting my brain, so I know when to stop Dear God, what’s that smell of industrial gasses? Like sulphur from hell, it’s evicting the masses Oh please let me pass, out my way quick Cause the smell of my arse, is making me sick I couldn’t look anywhere Nor shut my lids Self inflicted? That’s fair So I’ve got to get rid Of the lager, the whisky, the lemonade tops Southern Comfort too risky So I’ve sworn off the hops The brandy, the Baileys, the shandy the beer But maybe I’ll wait a bit, ‘til the new year? No, I won’t fail for my will will be stoic When I finish my tale you will think me heroic And after a night out returning from dancing I think I’ll be in there, prancing romancing For after the foreplay, she’ll hear no ‘Oops’ And I’ll bear no cold shoulder for my brewers droops. Fitness and wealth, more money I seek Witness my wealth, what I’ll save ev’ry week Not drinking or quaffing, spilling or licking the salt off my hand, when Tequila comes kicking I’ll end this now with sufficient wryness Take heed as you read of my new found dryness An example I’ll be of strict propriety After I’ve managed quick sobriety.
Only registered users can rate and write comments. Powered by AkoComment 2.0! |
||||||||||||
 Previous item
|
Next item
|
|---|