Tyler Brown Poem by Kevin Hulme

There Once was a man called Tyler Brown
Who stood up to his problems by lying down.
For drink was the Demon he regular sort,
A story enshrined in many a Court.
From Morning to Night he prayed at the Bar
To ‘Gordon's' and ‘Hennessy'
For the Idols they are.
For life looks Rosie at the bottom of the glass,
A Bacchanalian feast that he'll drink to the last.
He'll be bending his arm with Shot after Shot
Now the Teenage Dreams are distant, forgot.
To haunt the stool by the Mahogany Bar,
And never stray or wander afar.
He'll be heard at times through the early hours
His wailing song the Street devours.
To the friendless home and revolting bed,
The Calliope swirl within the head.
A troubled Night that's filled with Pain,
Keith Moon on Drums inside the Brain.
To the Morning draught that ‘Pick Me Up',
The Devils Wine within the Cup.
So What Moral stands proud in Tyler Brown
The Gossip's Darling about the Town.
Well the prickly answer is plain to see,
Immerse you Days in Cups of Tea.