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  • Category: Community Poetry
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Bottle crime

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Fancy me
All solid and shine
Some may say
I look so fine
What you pour
A clear sign
But sometimes full
Of the undivine

Often times I am half full
It depends on whom
defines
Spirits overtake me
Tipping me over
In moments like these
Life can be gripping
I wish I was not sobre
To savour what abhors,
my life of labour
Until I can see the light
through me,
No more drinks can save me


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