Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2019
Day drinkers, special breed of crumbling grey men. Sitting one by one, divided amongst the pubs.
The slow hum, newspaper flicking, condensation dripping O how depressing living on too concerned with the next drink to die young.
Picked out for their ability to withstand, 60 years of pints and *** ends.
What can I say, am I one of them just lacking the grey hair but not the crumbling skin, without the ageded stumbled gait with the 60 years yet to come.
RJP
Written by
RJP  19/M/Wales
(19/M/Wales)   
163
   imperfectstranger and Fawn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems