The Reality Of A Man

Broken windshield and burned out taillights
Punched in walls and empty pockets
No money for food, just for booze

Morning is here
What misery can he find?
Maybe a negative thought to brighten his day
Perhaps a scratch off to cry about after instant loss
The world is to blame!!!!

Misfortune will come tomorrow
Again, and again
Nothing to win over a day of peace
Not a tittle of nourishing laughter to feed the soul
When night comes, the bottle and barstool welcome him
The foe he calls friend chuckles at his dopiness
Drunk, driving home
Double vision through the crack of his windshield
Carried, recklessly, to his abode by the god he has created.

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