The Drunkard

Extreme intoxication mixed with rage takes control of him quicker.
His snicker lost, eyes fall at his fixed remorse and vexation.
Finally, he gets up and starts swearing and cursing, pointing and shouting,
at strangers. Putting himself in danger, of course.
Some talk back, some taken aback by what he's wearing.
They throw a glimpse with pity, and some shaken by such vulgar.
**

His tongue flushes in the ears that rush to hear
his hush words.
Tears fall down his face when he remembers
his siblings, cousins and other members
of his family who passed on years ago.
With his countenance aglow.
He throws a long gaze at the horizon and haze.
**

At this point, of course, he's lost in thought.
He starts speaking to himself with hideous murmurs
that are indistinct to the people around him but understood by fallen stars.
He searches for the next pub but all the bars
are closed. Pour him the galaxy and he'll drink Mars,
in its entirety in an effort to quench his thirst.
**

But wait, he has no money left,
it all got taken by the booze straight from his hand. Is this theft?
Well he's not drunk anymore, he washed on the shore.
Now the reality kicks in, reposed, he thinks
about his wife and offsprings. He sinks
in regret but gets an idea of putting an angry face
when he gets home.
This will make him unapproachable.
**
His tongue sharper than spears
will make the whole family intact with fear.
Thinking of the rent money that he forgot to put
away, he now starts to panic.
Thinks of all sorts of excuses and refuses
to admit to himself that he's all washed out.
**

Trapped in his thoughts, plays with different ideas.
Still on his way home, falling and tripping
along the way.
But this time he falls again. The road is too long and too steep
he tries to lift himself up, slightly, his head up, he's in too deep
Abrupt. He can't get up anymore, and falls asleep.

©Vincent Mbatha (@cryptoprofessor)

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