Liquid smoke drifts from my eyes
As I look up into the broken skies
A life of betrayal ended by lies
No one can hear my tortured cries
The world is grey my hope is lost
All I am, that I was is toast
So I think I should be what I can
I could surely use some jam
But the toast of my body is burnt
This blackness it seems I have earned
I scrape off the edges but bitter it tastes
This stupidity I want not, so, I shall waste
The juice has a shark swimming it it
I think its turned in a Shark Vod. Shit!
Vodka on the morning of my life
Where is my wife?
Regulars of A Story A Day will recall a Shark Vod. This is just a take on how people use big words and write 'dark' stuff, when the most important thing in life is a decent breakfast.
*Edit--Since I mentioned Shark Vod, here is for your reading pleasure > A Thousand Elephants -One,
A Thousand Elephants Two
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