Drinking Mans Lament. Poem by Jack Lashbrook

Ours was a lesser love,
A concern of little worth,
Destined to be this passionless
From it's very pallid birth.
An unevolved amoeba.
A single-celled romance.
Sitting by the fire-doors
As the others learn to dance.
We prayed to a lesser God
That one day we'd be free
To love in a larger landscape
and be all we can be.
Ours was a lesser love
But now i can't help thinking.
I might have cherished it much more,
Had i been less busy drinking.