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It’s a vicious mix of drink
No justice til you’re done
Say cheers to those who think
You’ll never be the one.
It settles in your gut
even when you sway and weave
You climb down off your shelf
you brush dust off your sleeve.
It’s a line of chain events
which tell you who’s the boss
stuck in a sticky web
you’re surely meant for loss.
So you send a friendly wave
and call to those nearby
In a month or two
They won’t remember you didn’t try.
©2021 CBialczak Poetry