When Sugar Is Low Poem by Manonton Dalan

soda cart slowly creeping to stop
as i practice swing my golf club
a quick glimpse so beautiful lass
she got off with her summer rugs
with sweet smile everybody do love
i am thirsty, i need gatorade; that

ball went straight down fairway; long
i reach my pocket for a change; some
cold sweet bottled juice; refreshing
i see all of us buying; been looking
kindness trickle to an open can, cute
few greens; still early for yogurt