Whisky Trouble Poem by martinez king cortez muriithi

that man there by that table
the one with a shirt thats pupple
serve him a whisky double
let him end his troubles
let him drown his sorrows
in that tot or whisky double
see him watching the raising
bubbles
raising inside the drink like his
troubles
if wishes were horses up he
would saddle
and ride like the wind so subtle
when he was through with his
whisky bottle
his mind was in a messy jumble
down the stairs he easily
stumbles
down the road thats rough like
rubble
he tries to talk but he only
mumbles
he staggers and brakes his feeble
ankle
he later on falls in a muddy
puddle
and whines about his aching
ankle
he had problems before he sat by
that table
he now has problems started by
that whisky double
he now curse that whisky double
that little bottle of whisky
trouble