It only takes a bottle of whiskey,
or maybe two, I lost count.
We all feel sorry for ourselves,
when we drown in oceans of regret.
Waterfalls of whiskey,
Rivers of regret,
all flow into one.
Overload, the payphone,
my change never changed anything,
hang up, pick up,
that girl is all old news,
hey, pretty lady,
who is sleeping with you?
Rejected, too drunk to see.
Rejected, too much in love to believe,
that you can swim to the shore,
with no land in sight,
alright, alright.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautifully written lines enjoyed reading....a pointed almost accusing conundrum cheers :)