Dutch Cowardice Poem by Mark Lawmon

There's only so much here
But so much to fear,
And the fear of my failing
Is falling so near.

Too much aggravation,
Pent up agitation,
Too many's the evening
Of lonely stagnation.

A glass in my hand,
Ol' Frank leads the band,
And in these wee small hours,
Where the hours drop like sand,

I resign to the night
And extinguish the light.
But the void and the glass
Reflect only my fright.

Before I know it I'm pissed,
Smash the door with my fist.
And you know you've got troubles
When your neighbour that you barely, rarely speak to comes knocking on your door in the deep dark middle of the night to say: 'Hey, are you OK? You seemed really upset last night, like, you were really in a rage. Do you want to come back to my room? I've got a bottle of wine.' And you mumble: 'No, thanks.'