Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#stout
You chugged down a pint of stout Reason running in and out Your friends cheering you on Until all reason is completely gone    In a moment of uncertainty    You poise the possibility    Of ordering another pint of that hilarity You get another one and a shot You feel your head spins and you're hot You're being cheered on by your friend-squad Reason's leaving, but you're not    The evening just began    And you feel a certain urge to dance    Then that concludes    You get the pint again    And the reason still eludes
0
Sep 13, 2019
Sep 13, 2019 at 8:36 AM UTC
freestyle blabber #12
If the food of love be poetry or not, I only judge half our love Yet, lest the happiness be forgot. For every time you made me cry, It was cancelled out by joy. And after all, love continues to try. To resurrect what we had before, In a gilded autumn ignored; seeming lost Yet love keeps tapping at the door. If we could have one glimpse of the past, Or wander in that magic wood again, Would the memories let us pass Into a locked garden and through the door To open a trunk filled with gold, And fill our hearts once more? December 4, 2018
0
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
A Fine, Stout Love
Crawled inside a whisky bottle For I am no aristotle This is my hiding spot for awail There is no need for 911 to be dialed I'm only trying to drown my misery Surly that is plain to see Please don't shake me out I need my whisky stout Let me stay In here for now I'll find my own way out.....some how
0
Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 11:31 AM UTC
Whisky Bottle
Alight me Paddies! Today the world is Green; I am in a mood, alas, to gnaw crubeen, To kiss my Irish lass, and cuddle her awhile, To hear the Irish Rovers sing their bonny Isle, To wear a shamrock, laboring o'er a stout: Murphy or Guinness, to me it matters naught.
0
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
Irish for a Day