Wine, Women, And Song Poem by Orlando Belo

As I walk in this stifling heat,
with no shoes upon my feet.
I search for wine, women, and song,
as I hopefully go along.

Sweat is pouring and my face is sore.
I don't know if I can take much more.
Where is the wine, the women, and song?
There is no sign has something gone wrong?

It's so oppressively hot around here.
I really should be getting near.
I can sense the wine, women, and song,
I do feel that it won't be long.

I've caught a whiff of Chanel perfume,
a sure sign that I'll be there soon.
But where are the wine, women, and song
that I've been committed to for so long?

For days I've followed this hypnotic smell,
and I've just realised that I'm in hell.
Sadly there is no wine, women, and song,
and this road I walk is eternally long.