So you find nothing,
Today, to do.
So, go get trashed,
And, write a few.
Lines of love,
Or, lines of hate.
Inebriated you are,
You’re shitfaced.
You create some rhyme,
You call poetry.
After pounding a few,
From a Shot Ski.
Then, post the poem,
To yourself you boast.
“What a work of art,
To me, I toast!”
Suddenly the spins,
Get the upper hand.
You lose your balance,
Can no longer stand.
You wake in the morning,
Ringing in your ears.
Go read your post,
It brings you to tears.
Can’t believe your eyes,
You posted that thing!
Promise, next time,
“I’ll just have some tea.”