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The Retired Bloke

The Morning After

The morning after

The mind’s a fog

Bleary bulging eyes 

Battling through smog

Incapable of anything, far too weak

Mumbling and muttering

Can’t get words out

Incapable of palpable speak

Stomach churning

Must start learning

Must be more discerning

Start refusing any more boozing 

Start remembering the last time

On drinking too much wine

I committed to refrain

From over indulging ever again.