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A poem about the day after the drunken night before |
| The problem with being drunk is that you never will forget The perfect priceless laughter; the cringes of regret What starts as slurring dialogue becomes a verbal mess Of mixed up words and phrases, things you shouldn't have confessed Blurry flashbacks teasing; tit-bits from the night before The thing you're still unsure of is how you made it through the door I what? I did? With who? To who? Where to? What, where and why? The flashbacks hitting hard and fast: “Good God, please let me die!” “Never again!” a common phrase, but of course you always do You'll meet that stranger once again; the one you told "I love you" |