The Brewer's Choice Poem by Amedeka Gideon

THE BREWER'S CHOICE
I gazed in awe at your protruding belly
Your creamy shiny emaciated skin, as your yellowish eyes craned in no direction
You slayer of sweating beer.

Left to right
You loomed in the mood
With the left over of your hangover
Matching on to the battle field
Only heaven knows if you will make it alive.

Patriotic as you are
You pay your tax in broken bottles and gourds filled to the brim
Kings shall now bow low to you
You are the perfect gentleman
The brewer's choice.
Copyright © 2016
Gideon Amedeka