Incoherent stool pigeons

...if you'll listen....

 Timing is everything. We missed ours. That's why you see us sitting at the back of the bar. We drink to not think, about the mistakes made, only to reflect upon them when snug in a sober grave. We drink our tears, in hopes that we can not see straight enough to face our fears. 

   Incoherent stool pigeons, we will tell our story to anyone who will listen. The problem is you can't tell what is fact or fiction. It could be a story about the love of our lives or an undercover 007 mission. Like speaking with a serpant forked tongue, every story is never really ended or properly begun. We ramble down the conversational hill with liquor from over-filled lips that always spill. My cup runneth over, from a derelict never sober. Everything is on repeat over and over till we fall over like a dying mule or head thrust-ed back sleeping, snoring, somehow still sitting upright on a bar stool. Life has planted us without a pot to piss in. So take time out of your meaningful lives to listen to the sad lessons of the incoherent stool pigeons.

the end

by the unknown sith

    ..let the stone sink to the bottom of the ocean. For I have no more desire to see the current motion. As I watch it sink to a feeling that there will be no bottom to this just an abyss of hopelessness.....                                                                                                               

Reviews

[Arundass TP]

Nice. Awaiting for your writing