Milk bottles and nipples to suck,
sleep and eat and all the luck.
Hugs and kisses like loads of trucks;
Warm sponge bath and short awkward strut.

 Summer time and school no more,
fool around and fight the bore;
Penniless days and bodies sore;
Cashless! but never poor.

 Sex and drugs and malicious ink,
waking up drunk in your own stink;
Long crazy nights and fluorescent kink,
acid and raves and eating pink.

 Wooden doors and plastered walls,
broken seats in bathroom stalls;
Drunken nights and bar brawls;
Window shopping in outlet malls.

 Bitter and old and very grey,
lost battles in life’s lonely fray;
Homeless and hungry on the sidewalk stray,
asking for freedom with every pray-“errrr…”


By: Viraj Belgaonkar



3 thoughts on “Journeyman

  1. Pingback: Liquid Courage | Poème du Noir

Pen it... or aaa type it. u know what i mean.

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