These dreams won’t let me sleep…
For I dream I’m waking still.
And taking a drink don’t work no more.
It only makes me sick and sore
So I open the bottle of Motrin PM’s
And pop another pill.
And so I write all night
‘Til late night or early morn.
About some funny things in life
Or maybe bitch about stress and strife.
And doing that is what’s saving me
From being morose or forlorn.
I ain’t got no right to bitch
But still, I always do…
I rave about this I rant about that
I ain’t rich enough…I’m too fucking fat.
I write about me but stay out of my way
Or I might turn my pen against YOU!
One more PM…Yawn.
This is a poem