Lawrence S. Pertillar

Gold Star - 48,706 Points (February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

Out Of Scotch - Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Dominate my dreams you do.
To put me through,
A loving each moment of this anguish.

I use to sip a nip,
To enhance my falling to sleep.
With hopes I'd be whipped up again,
Into a fantasized frenzy.
That only you could make me,
Angry to have the Sunrise...
Open my eyes to realize,
Another day has come.

Oooohhh...
So helplessly I laid.
While you repeatedly took advantage,
Of desires and my attempts to escape.
From your kisses, hugs and touches.
In those places you seem to have known,
I would never condone...
If conscious.

Embarrassed I am left at times when I am found,
Walking around in public alone...
Smiling for reasons I dare not explain.
Or frowning to appear I am burdened with complaints.
And I am on those days,
When money is tight and I have run out of scotch.

Oooohhh...
So helplessly I laid.
The memory of it continues to linger.
While you repeatedly took advantage,
Of desires and my attempts to escape.
From your kisses, hugs and touches.
In those places you seem to have known,
I would never condone...
If conscious.

'It's okay, my brutha!
These days don't last forever.
Let God lift whatever troubles you have,
Right off your shoulders.'

You have no idea how difficult it is,
To meet my needs on a fixed income.
I go through this at the end of each month.
I can't seem to budget my pleasures.

'I've learned to diet, exercise and cut out sweets.
Let go and let God remove those troubles from you.'

Are you kidding?
I've come to look forward,
To those tests and temptations.
But I can't seem to schedule them with patience.

'Uh...are we talking about the same thing? '

Of course.
Faith.
Keeping faith.
Without faith to keep,
Our dreams would never be as fulfilling.

'You right.
I feel you on that.'

Dominate my dreams you do.
To put me through,
A loving each moment of this anguish.
An anguish,
God knows...
I must learn to prioritize to do,
With less unbearable sacrifice.
Especially...
When money is tight.
And I have run out of scotch.

Topic(s) of this poem: life


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, November 22, 2015



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