When the hang over pesters me as a child, <br />To stay on the bed with heavy head ache, <br />Pouring of lemonade into the esophagus, <br />The dried tongue pelt with the messages, <br /> <br />The hangover has made me to be truthful, <br />For a minute, until the next session on the pavement, <br />Of downtown and up market embankment, <br />Where knowledgeable and intelligent men like us meet, <br /> <br />We have dreamt everything that is gendered and neutered, <br />Neatly tied removed and tug in shirts pulled out, <br />Where we gather to celebrate the night after twilight, <br />Our women are at work and on the other side at risk, <br /> <br />They too have learned to gather to vent out, <br />We are the new group of civilization, like to prank, <br />The autumn leaves are shed to show the twigs, <br />When the new foliage erupt piercing through the scar, <br /> <br />We forget many of our troubles, not like to remember forever. <br />Hangover and Mondays are enemies and these met regularly, <br />Resolution and promises are just a waste, but life has to revolve, <br />The drunkard earth is uneducated, never has had a hangover.<br /><br />veeraiyah subbulakshmi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hangover-13/
