Paper Bag Poet

I lost all my

good sense

years ago

1000 beers ago

I wrote her

100 times

no reply

then

I tried to write

about my heart

I wrote

while my life

fell apart

Sonnets given away

to one so

less deserving

my devotion

never swerving

Just me and

my trusty laptop

watching the

penny drop

heartbreak

after

heartbreak

crying ink

into a paper bag

of booze

no one else

to choose

With ale

I cannot lose

drinking in

the blues

No music needed

my heart

already conceded

to many bottles

of Guinness

my spirit's

just not in it.

I bled all

the ink I had

before things got

really bad.

Volumes written

of Lost Love

my velvet heart

her iron glove

I still write

from time

to time

I try to rhyme

but my rhythm

is mostly benign

Poetry that used

to run through

my veins

now replaced

with hops

and barley

that all tastes

the same

each bottle

baptized in

tears of the

past, the sting

of a loss lass.

there are no

more beers on

the balcony

that ferry boat

has sailed

far away from me

so once again

as the barkeep

kicks me out

at 2am

past closing time

(although I don't

really know it)

he says goodnight

to me,

the

Paper bag poet.

_______________

Thanks for reading! - Sam