That first coffee of the morning
That first wine of the afternoon
My two vice addictions
I use to somehow function
My reason, my explanation
A thinly veiled excuse
To mask the weakness of character
All poets drink and write
It's part of the territory
Not even I believe that
There are easy escapes
Stereotypes to fit into
A role in a play in act two
A costume to wear
But in truth, in honesty
I like a coffee in the morning
And a glass of wine
Come the afternoon
Perhaps a little too much
Perhaps dependent
Someday I hope to be
A better man and poet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem