You opened the door
and out flew the dog
and in the bird pranced
for it is a topsy turvy world
That’s what was said at the stroke of midnight
It was all such a bore
the night had to become a fog
Everyone tapped and danced
Swirled and twirled
The eventual fight left a blight
The whiskey was the key
The whiskey was the fuel
The whiskey left a burning hole
in what should have been a heart
Nothing left to abhor
but one’s solemnly ridiculous grog
Boiled and lanced
Nonsensical thoughts while in the corner curled
This is the height of foggy fright
Time to call it a night
and try to not wonder what this was all about
Just blame it on the whiskey and the whiskers
Maybe tomorrow there will be clarity
Categories: Culture, Humor, Poetry, Psychology
psychologistmimi 
Or a hangover…
LikeLike
Reblogged this on The Blog That Would Destroy the World and commented:
by Psychologist Mimi
Poetry
LikeLike
Thank you for the reblog. Many cheers
LikeLike
He of whiskers was not very nice. It sounds dreadful. I never know why so many expressions are so vague and tragic sounding. It sounds horrible if it would be fleshed out. I could never understand the purpose of vagueness in poetry. I’d rather have the full beard.
LikeLike
Haha. I like that full beard analogy
LikeLike