As I walked home with the dawn chorus,
5: 30 am,
I passed a car that had
been thrown into a driveway,
the passenger door wide open
and it's content's slung,
face down,
onto the concerette floor.
And I stood there looking
at this unconcious stranger
I realised that
no matter how drunk you think YOU are
there's always some poor bastard
who's worse off.
yes..i like the darker shade of poetry too...no sugar and fluffiness for me...so i reckon i will be reading more of your poetry...
True what you say Neil, one should only worry when they are to drunk to think at all. Nice poem, you are fast becoming a firm favourite of mine on this site. You focus on the darker, yet often more real side of life and embrace it with humour, sadness, clarity and vigour yet manage to remain unjudgemental. best wishes Vincent
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You might haved stopped to let me know that I was home too early! Never a more jesting word said in truth. Ths is the third I've read. Excellent. Loved The Joyce one! jim