Drink Taken Poem by Peter Pacey

And what's the point of me?
Years go by with nothing written
And nothing up there anyway.
But hit me with some trauma
And sure as sure
My pen will tremble;
A seismometer's tittle
Tattle of real events elsewhere.
It is so easy and so pleasurable to be an actor
Even a minnow like me
Is tossed a bone occasionally
And that's enough to keep me happy.
Am I bragging or complaining?
It's a sigh. A feeling of shame.
An addict's joy in the world's overwhelming hit
Eternally mainlined and always enough.
A young friend is dying
What is the point of me?

25/9/20