It isn’t it a joke how you poke an ache?
You dare me, I do mean.
Isn’t it funny how you act like a clown?
You’re like our mothers’ clone.
They’re gone, our mother-father.
With friends, I’m left alone.
Away to drink, far away have we become.
Twenty cents was never enough for a lager,
shacking not talking, dehydrated, digested
As in the outskirts,
bottles, empty stacks but no skirts.
Together I gather aces with
the story that hurts the most.
Nevertheless, I pass with flying colours,
as booked, your ticket passed out.
You sip and gulp.
I sign up to complete my novel,
a story of an addicts addiction.
My sister drinks a tank I think she’s stressed
Sisterly you never meant well.
Well, I didn’t as well.
Thicker is blood than water,
For mother land moulds a sister
from another mother.
You’ve shown otherwise
likewise, I do mean.