Jan 2011
The beer trickles down
my throat
and begins to warm
my soul
I begin to forget
what it was
that I was meant
to do
Pure bliss becomes me
and only leaves me
when people start talking
again.
my throat
and begins to warm
my soul
I begin to forget
what it was
that I was meant
to do
Pure bliss becomes me
and only leaves me
when people start talking
again.
