Drunken Memory Poem by David Hunter

Drunken Memory



I can barely see the face of this stranger
Since it's nothing but a blur and slur
I've grown to be stubborn and arrogant
Yet, I take pleasure in a pretty face
Usually, I can't remember names
But her face- I've treasured so dearly
Then I woke at morning with a headache
With only a memory of a single woman
And whose name I cannot remember

Monday, March 13, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: memory
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David Hunter

David Hunter

Tuntutuliak, Alaska
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