This is not a vodka; ginger, ice and lime
I'm losing it
I'm losing it
I'm stood right here
refusing it
an ice cold one
that shouts-
'get gone!'
that thrills of
my abusing it
I excuse myself
a ruse myself
excuses me and
I myself
deny myself
a lift from
this Moscow mule
that i drive myself
I'm losing it
I'm losing it
I'm giving in
and chosing it.
Words and foto T. Carroll
Isobel
Wed 16th Nov 2011 21:44
Yes - I do think your poetry is getting stronger and stronger. Perhaps that is an indication that you are in better spirits - pardon the pun! x