Bottled Escape Poem by Emmanuel Stone

I.
The Venom in someone so young
dancing with their mind
makes them sing and sleep
or vomit forth their weekly curse.
Passing out in every space
a gurgling, spluttering mess
too happy to see themselves
too high to notice their cares.
This they do to live,
joy spasmed with insanity,
the escape from madness,
the mundane and dull given to them.
They are a horrid putrid muck
of spew, half concious bodies and deluded happiness,
the other side of the equation,
the product of modern life.

II.
Happiness source so bitter and vile
flowing freely from bottle and mouth
spilling on ground and spilling in air
the saving grace from woe and despair.

Youth culture learnt and grown
from fertile land that elders have sown
Criticise not the means of joy
for you gave us these tools, this life.