Loneliness Poem by Wilson Mushanganyisi

I work hard, including saterday and Sundays.
When I get a day off, the only thing come to my mind is alcohol.
I would go out and drink until, I don't know myself.
I'm drunk in the tarven and everyone knows me, some get close because I bought them beers, crocks, murderer and prostitute.
I dance and everybody is watching me.
When the money is finish, everyone dissappear and would be lonely again in my room with no help and no money.