Me and the Hawk are poor poets. We also are or were somewhat hopeless drinkers. He'd get mad at me just because I liked to laugh. The bar scene was no place for mirth when Hawk had the blues.

So I show him my poem...

Full of  mirth

What is it worth
A smile that beguiles
That is worth while
Joke and laugh
Whole or half (giggle)
Can't you try to see
Better than quivery misery
Yes a belly laugh
Whole or half
Makes you feel so free.

Hawk says, "Humph." He shows me his poem as Hawk is a bit of a writer too.

The Worth Of My Birth

The worth of my birth
Means nothing to me
I have wasted time
And not done a good job
Of living & loving
It all weighs so heavy
On my tortured mind

I close with the poem EXPECTATIONS...

Expectations are the greatest things
They fool you. They rule you.
You live for the next time
To be sublime in the knowledge
You've done well
Those pitfalls that prey on your past
Will never last
If you achieve and believe
I can do this again.

Hawk and me smile and drink our drinks.