My heart gets broken every time I see my father wastes his money for a bottle of whisky or beer. This has been for years. People would ask, "How come you don’t have enough money when your father works abroad and your mother is a nurse?" I opted to answer them through this poem:
WHISKY
whisky, whisky, whisky
what a big trouble you bring
to huge palaces you broke
ah, to you their kings love to cling.
the glass is full, full
so the prince’s future’s blur…
with you the golds are soaked
what a hefty fortune you allure.
what a waste, waste, waste
only the bronzes are left
to the king in his cloak
whisky has ‘tirely swept.
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
