The morning after the night before
Commonly known as whenever
Dates back to the days of yore
When sober-ness was not our endeavor
After the night before, in the morn
We couldn’t care less when it was
Until as we aged, it finally dawned
We wouldn’t last long always buzzed
So here we are, whenever it is
Living our lives rarely stoned
Rarely drinking that liquid-y fizz
Priest-like, fully atoned
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem