This is the story of Good-Time Tim That I sit down to tell you today No matter the weather No matter the season This man just wanted to play
And rain always calls for a raincoat Boots and a hat for good measure But Tim didn't need any protection from the storm In the downpour in fact he took pleasure
His father put the pressure on From a young age expected perfection So when he grew up he got the hell out of dodge Moved far away from parental correction
He was always in a drinking mood Any time of day or night If you caught him four drinks or more in Whew! He was quite a sloppy sight!
This is the story of Good-Time Tim That I sit down to tell you today No matter the weather No matter the season This man just wanted to play
He drank hard alcohol and beer Without discrimination Either one would work just fine For his goal of inebriation
He was a bit too rough on his body Which is an overly gross understatement He neglected his health and mental well-being In reckless pursuit of entertainment
He wasted his life away getting wasted Never pausing to consider that he might be missing out Too self-destructive to attract a wife So a family he chose to live without
This is the story of Good-Time Tim That I sit down to tell you today No matter the weather No matter the season This man just wanted to play
There was the time Tim broke his shoulder Falling out of a tree Because someone bet he couldn't reach the top A task that proved to be an impossibility
Tim hardly ever brushed his teeth So they all fell out by age 45 But considering his lifestyle He was just lucky to still be alive
Surprisingly he was a religious man Although not one page of the bible did he read He had heard Jesus turned water to wine That was all the preaching he'd ever need
This is the story of Good-Time Tim That I sit down to tell you today No matter the weather No matter the season This man just wanted to play
As he grew old he began to slow down But not once did he ever regret The countless mistakes he had made through the years I guess the ***** made him forget
His liver held up for a very long time But eventually started to rot But for Tim it was too late to get sober So he still swallowed shot after shot
When the doctor gave him his fatal diagnosis He laughed and said "I'm ready to go But make sure I'm buried with a bottle In case they don't serve liquor way down there below!"
Day 29: Research a type of poetry of your choosing and implement that writing style in a poem