WastedA Poem by ChrisPardon my language
Tonight I'll wish upon a star,
To figure out who the f**k you are. Why the hell are you in my bed? What is this awful pounding in my head? Have I finally died and gone to hell? Ugh, I don't feel so well. I can't remember a damn thing. Where did I get this ring? This is absolutely awful. By far the worst feeling of all. It can't get any worse. What do you mean it's the first verse? Seriously, who the f**k are you? I haven't got the slightest clue. Where are your clothes? What do you mean no one knows? I'm getting tired of all the questioning. No I don't recall any naked wrestling... Can you go find me a phone? Ugh, my mind is so blown. Why are so many bottles in my room? How much alcohol did we consume? What do you mean it was all me? How could that be? So no one else drank any beer? Why the hell are they even here? Figments of my imagination? I need to come to a realization? What the hell are you trying to say? What do you mean this is my last day? Wait... I think I remember... It happened late November. A car had crashed into a lake. The driver never even hit the brake. I wish I knew what was going on. They said he died instantly. They said he had no family. I hope what I think is not true... If it is, I know what you've come to do. I hope I am not right, But was it I who died that night? I finally drank myself to death. I already took my last breath. So this is my Groundhog Day? I must let go or it will replay? Why didn't you just tell me? Was there something I didn't see? Now I'll wish upon that star, I wish I never entered that bar.
© 2012 ChrisAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews Added on February 4, 2012 Last Updated on February 4, 2012 AuthorChrisHanover, MDAboutMy birthday is the 26th of May 1992. Quotes: "We're the middle children of history, man--no purpose or place. We have no great war. No great depression. Our great war's a spiritual war. Our grea.. more..Writing
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