The Sad Old Drunk Without A Head

The Sad Old Drunk Without A Head short poem

Photo by gagilas

Numb at noon and thoughts adrift
He takes another sip
The turmoil in his head, confused
A twitch..and then a clumsy shift

A snap of fingers, “Another please”
His bloodshot eyes seem lost
Fumbling for his change, he finds
A crumpled note, then hands across

Glaring at the punters
Through tired bloodshot eyes
Peering, straining as he sways
Contempt and anger, he can’t disguise

And now he’s lost, amid the crowd
His head a swirling wind
The bomb is ticking, surely so
The lights are on, but no one’s in..

Another, then another
Eyes, now a sea of red
Now all attention focuses…
On this sad old drunk without a head

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Shaun Fennings

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I'm a 47 year old with two sons, Sam (22) and Jim (19). I love poetry, music and fashion and work for a local company as a Finance Manager.My brother and I are both on the road to sobriety, after some very ugly and interesting recent post 'The Sad Old Drunk Without a Head' is pretty much based on how we recall our boozy experiences!My brother (Lee) and I are currently embarking on a journey - 'The Picture Poet Society', which aims to capture our thoughts and feelings in pictures and poetry..we then hope to co-write a book on our 'Road to Sobriety'..which we believe will be inspiring to others that wish for a life without watch this space.I hope you enjoy my work and am always pleased to hear feedback..good or bad..mistakes will be made along the's the only way we can strive to improve.Thanks! Shaun
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2 Comments on "The Sad Old Drunk Without A Head"

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wow a heartfelt poem!!! I hope you and your brother make it. Self
realization is the first step well done and thanks for sharing.


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