The
things they say about you
are
true:
blitzed
by breakfast,
appearing
half-naked
with
only one shoe.
What
happened at dinner
remains
a blur,
though,
scanning the suspects,
it’s
most what you fear.
Reaching
for that drink,
adjusting
your smile,
tell
us life is worth it,
if
only for a while.
We
wouldn’t have known
you
had a soul,
if
you hadn’t tripped over
and
landed in hell.
The
peace of the cemetery
has
a dubious charm,
for
those whose lifestyle
gives
cause for alarm.
A
future in exile,
is
how it all ends:
adrift
in eternity,
toasting
absent friends.
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