Tidbits

The Drunken Sailor

A little poem that came to me over the weekend. The story is true but I don't think he was ever a sailor

As kids we would find him

Slumped in his senile stupor

Bottle in hand

Propped

Up against the soccer pitch changing rooms

Dark it was

The sun had set on the scene

and his days

Drunken drunkard

We knew no better as we teased and tormented him

Placing little pebbles in his hair 

thrilled at his unexpected next move as he tried

to bat us away

just his arms moving

and his lips

as he tried to say God knows what

in his incoherent way

Getting up he stumbled

and shattered the bottle - glass

landing on the shards; bleeding hard

Now we know better

and have sadly seen

too many lost 

to a bottle of green

Hopefully one day realising

it may be better down the sink

Before we too, like the drunken sailor

end up on the brink

drowning in the demon drink

Photo taken by me of wine glass and bottle in a sink.