The Spiritual Glow
It’s life’s fault that I’m lying here in such a mess
sodden with vomit, wine, beer, and meth’s.
“Hey, I’m sorry, but I can’t remember insulting your wife;
there’s no need to hit a man who’s down in his life.
Stop! Please don’t thump and kick me any more,
my head and face is bleeding, and my ribs are sore.
You’ve broken my nose and my eyes are swollen shut,
and I vomit every time you kick my gut.
I know being drunk is no excuse for being rude
but it’s the booze to blame for my bad attitude.
I agree, that I’m a useless loser and waste of time,
and I spend all my money on beer, meth’s, and wine.
Listen mister, I don’t expect any sympathy from anyone
just because my days are all but done.
The tablets are no use and the only painkiller that I know
is from the mixture I call the ‘Spiritual Glow’.
So if you you’re going to hit and kick me again,
kick me hard around my head and brain.
Then at least you’ll do me a favour by setting me free
and you’ll go to prison for the death of me.”
poem by Orlando Belo

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!