BARFLY
The malaise of reality
spins his vision without mercy
The bar is where he hurries to buy escape
from the hunts and haunts of every daybreak
So many burdens that won’t lessen
and unending assignments of life’s tough lessons
He drinks to force his eyes to see
the beauty of an elusive fantasy
The bottles set free his rage
but clothe him in the garment of shame
A laughing stock when toxically drunken
A remorseful soul when his vision brightens
At least, he has the bottles to thank
for fixing him in a trance bank
where pain, nausea and fever freeze
and blocked bronchi breathe
Where life plays fair
Where the rules are all square
He always returns to get sunk in that tank
The spirit always earns a vote of thanks
He’ll continue running free in the spree
The real world is so heavy a food for him to eat
Short is the lifespan of his regrets
Liquor always saves the day when he’s depressed
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Comments
Great use of language, professional sounding..i love poetry
We all do. Poetry is everything my friend.