The poetry of this hangover

I don't want to think, Not hard anyway

The scenery and fish, they're bad

take another breath, another look and swallow

holding the hand of hard times and fallout

It could be worse....my star could fall



Pacified by little things

tones of beige and green seem

to halt a scream in waiting

all red eyes, all heads thinking

no one says anything I can

hear down here on the floor where I belong



Too young to find the horses

too young fighting causes

I get overwhelmed

and I feel three days old



Another day goes and fails

the peoples lose control just 'cause

things are going slow

your corduroy coat has left you

just when you're feeling the wind and cold

then comes a rain of could thoughts

that always have to wreck my high

and bring me down



You and I are not the same

you like everything

arms wave in a spin, blown by

things I've hated, I've faded to the point

where I'm not all there

curled up on the floor

where I belong